It's a Bitter Sweet Symphony
by whaschmackity
Summary: It's a bitter sweet symphony this life... It's just sex and violence, melody and silence... It seems that way for jaded twins Bee and Arlo Bell, and for Dr. Isla Knight, but joining Star Fleet could change all of that. Spock/OC, McCoy/OC.
1. A Prologue to Start

**Co-authored with the effervescent SailingAwaySoftly.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, but we're working on that.**

**-_-_-_**

**Liverpool, England.**

That Sandy Pilkes was an absolute wanker, who deserved to be drawn and quartered, fed to ravenous Venus fly-traps, and drowned in the Mersey just for good measure. Besides, he came from a fairly affluent family and almost always had something shiny and of decent value on his person, making him the perfect target. Fifteen year-old Bee was pretty enough to distract the seventeen year-old, but she would rather lay in wait as her twin brother, Arlo, drew their unsuspecting victim's attention by telling jokes or pulling odd faces. Pilkes was a blundering idiot, so it was relatively easy for Bee to sneak up and slip her hand into his jacket pocket as she brushed past him.

"Oh, I am _so_ sorry," she said in her most innocent voice. "I just noticed that my brother here was bothering you, so I came to retrieve him."

"'S'alright," said Sandy, his greedy, shiny eyes sliding over Bee's body, particularly her chest which was significantly more defined now than it had been a year ago. "'T'weren't no trouble."

Bee wanted to gag under the scrutiny of his disgusting, lustful gaze, but she smiled her best smile and politely turned to leave, Arlo in tow. When they were a safe distance away, the two huddled together to see what Bee had pinched from the loathsome prig. Arlo gave a low whistle at the object in her hands.

"A sonic filter. That'll fetch a pretty penny," he said appreciatively.

Bee frowned slightly. "What's a penny?"

"Dunno," Arlo replied with an accompanying shrug. "Read it in a book once. I think it was money."

"Doesn't sound like a good name for a coin." Bee knew that there used to be hundreds of different currencies all over the world at one time, but now everyone used Federation credits, and she couldn't imagine the hassle people used to have to deal with over bothersome little details such as exchange rates.

"Well, whatever it was, it means we're going to get a nice little sum for this."

Bee nodded. Sonic filters were by no means uncommon, but they were useful for things like protecting the ears against loud noises or filtering out pesky sounds such as rambunctious children, a neighbor's dog barking at three in the morning, or a teacher droning on and on in a stifling classroom.

They rounded the corner and walked down two more blocks before coming to the pawn shop. The owner undoubtedly knew of their scheming and illegally acquired items, but he kept a strict "don't ask, don't tell" policy. They knew he'd sell it for twice what he gave them for it anyway.

"Morning, Mr. Bruner," Arlo said pleasantly.

The old man, crooked and bent by time and hard work in his old age as many elderly Liverpudlians were, looked up at them. He didn't smile, but motioned for them to come to the counter.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite set of twins," he drawled. "And what do you have for me today?"

"Sonic filter," said Arlo. "Like new."

Bee hesitantly handed it over for Bruner to inspect. A few moments later, he set it down on the counter and drew a safe box from the shelf. He typed in an electronic code and complied with voice command, and the lid popped open with an approving beep.

"I'll give you ten credits," he said.

Arlo shook his head. He was good at haggling. "It's practically new, worth at least fifty credits. We won't take less than twenty-five."

"Fifteen," Bruner offered.

"Twenty."

"Done." Bruner sighed and grudgingly handed over the money. "Now get out of here. The authorities have already come by twice today, and they've been keeping eyes on you two. I can't have you seen in my shop."

"Pleasure doing business with you," Bee called over her shoulder.

Smiling to themselves, the twins left the shop and headed home. They lived in the older part of Liverpool, the part that still reeked of centuries of business in the fishing industry. No matter what they did to the city, there was still that musky, fishy smell. So that's where the officials put the slums. Their family lived in a three-room apartment, consisting of a bedroom, a bathroom, and the largest room which served as the living room, dining room, and kitchen. The kitchenette stood in a corner. The whole place was small, and it was a bit of a squeeze for everyone, but it was clean at least, and fishy odor wasn't so bad when they opened the one window while the breeze was blowing.

"Hullo, Mum," they greeted their mother.

"Hullo, dears. How was your day?" Jane Bell was seated at the small table, the sleeping baby in one arm, the hand of the other busily typing figures into her keyscreen.

"Productive." Bee stepped forward and placed their recently acquired twenty credits on the table. She bent and kissed her mother and then the baby.

"Where did you get all that?" Jane asked suspiciously.

Bee shrugged. "Found something interesting. Pawned it."

"Now listen here, you two," their mother said sternly. "I know things are hard right now, but you've got honest jobs –"

"Honest jobs that don't pay shit," Arlo muttered.

"Language, son," she said. She sighed. "I just don't want you two getting into trouble. I'm doing accounts for people at home, but it doesn't pay well, and without your father, I really need all your help."

"So these extra twenty credits aren't helping?" Bee asked, slightly angry.

Jane sighed again. "It _does_ help, dear. Thank you. Really. I just don't want it becoming a habit with you two. It'll all catch up to you one day, you know."

"Don't worry, Mum," said Arlo. He bent and kissed her cheek. "We'll keep out of trouble."

She smiled at them both. It was a lie, and she knew it, but he had to say it, and she had to pretend to believe it. No, there was no pretend about it. She believed it because it kept the balance, got them through to the end of every month, fed the baby.

Bee went to the far wall and typed in a few numbers of the city keyscreen. The weather forecast for the rest of the week came up, as well as news headlines and entertainment programs. She pressed a few more keys and the screen went blank. Crossing the room again, she knelt by a small bookcase and pulled out a dusty copy of _Jane Eyre_. Books were getting rarer and rarer every day since most people read them on their personal keyscreens anyway.

Music drifted through the open window. Mr. Harlan upstairs had a piano. Maybe he'd let her play later that evening.

Arlo stormed into the tiny bedroom and threw himself on the bed. Their father had been dead a year now, and nothing was ever enough. They had barely scraped by before, and now they were stretched to their limits on everything. They had no debt, thank goodness, but they cut corners on meals so that their mother and baby Gwyneth could eat plenty. They were both weaker than the twins; it had not been a good pregnancy. He punched the pillow, angry that life was so unkind to his poor family.

**-_-_-_**

**Seven years later…**

**-_-_-_**

"Well, Mr. Bell, Ms. Bell, what would you have me do?" the stern magistrate demanded.

Arlo spoke. "I don't know, Your Honor."

"From your files, you are both highly intelligent, but have not been able to keep a steady job, and this is evident by your recent crimes," he said gravely. "While I hate to put young people with so much potential into incarceration, I cannot allow a crime to go unpunished."

They knew the crime for stealing was six months. By the time they got out, there would be no way to get any sort of decent job. Their mother's security checque had started coming in when they turned eighteen, financial help that was too late to save weak baby Gwyneth from dying. People thought that poverty had been basically eliminated and that children no longer died of malnutrition. Those people were dead wrong.

"However," the magistrate continued, "if you'd be willing to apologize and return the stolen item, I will reconsider your sentence and give you a better option, though you really don't deserve it."

"What option would that be, Your Honor?" Bee asked.

The old man cleared his throat. "To enlist in Star Fleet. The service no doubt would greatly aid in straightening out your crooked lives, and it would increase your opportunities in the future immensely."

Star Fleet. It hadn't occurred to either of them that this would ever be an option, though it was completely logical. The pay would be better than anything they could get in Liverpool, _and_ they would get to _leave_ Liverpool. Without them to care for, Jane Bell would be able to live comfortably from her security checque, and her friends would certainly see that she was taken care of.

The twins looked at each other a moment before returning their attention to the magistrate.

"Where do we sign up?"

**-_-_-_**

**A/N: So you like?**


	2. What? Another Prologue?

****

**Co-authored with the effervescent SailingAwaySoftly.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, but we're working on that.**

-_-_-_

**Washington, DC**

The bartender was smart enough to know that any sympathy shown towards her would not be well-received. He passively gave her the shot of Jack and refilled it a moment later.

Why her? This was the fourth – she struggled for any word other than 'man,' for the cretin she had just left looking quite bewildered at her dorm was not worthy of the term – _partner_ who had cheated on her. She hated to use _that_ word in the other's place, because she liked to think there was more to her relationships – tragedies that they all were – than just heated encounters between bed sheets, but now it seemed that more than ever that was the case. At least, for the male half of the partnership it was.

She downed a third shot. As a medical student, her brain had automatically started to list the evils of drinking too much – and drinking alone at that – while her rejected lover side kept insisting that it was doing her a world of good. After the fifth shot, both voices blurred together, and after the sixth shut up completely.

"_Dad?" she said hesitantly._

"_Yeah? What?" was the gruff reply._

"_I'm… leaving."_

"_And just where are ya goin'?"_

"_America." Isla knew that it was immensely difficult for her father to comprehend her leaving London, much less the country._

"_Whatever you say. Have you seen Sophie?" he added as sort of an afterthought._

_Isla shook her head, a tear threatening to fall from her lashes. "I'll just go then."_

"_If you see Sophie, tell 'er I've been askin' for her."_

"_Yeah. Sure I will, Dad."_

The tears that she had held back then started to fall now. It had been nine years since she had last seen him and had made no attempt to contact him. He didn't care about her, nor she for him. He had only cared about the latest pretty figure in his bed. Was that why she was so unsuccessful in her own relationships? Was she more like her father than she thought? Isla refused to believe that. It wasn't just sex for her. Sure, she liked it as much as the next person, but if that was all, she could have as many one-night stands as she wanted without a care in the world. But she wanted more from a man. The trouble was just that no man seemed either willing or able to produce more.

"Hey," said a voice suddenly beside her. "Next round on me?"

She looked up. It was another student she recognized from a biology class. He was nice. Nice manners, nice disposition, nice body. She recalled doing a few labs with him.

"Yeah, sure," she answered indifferently.

The bartender complied.

"Listen, that guy, Barrowman – well, he lives on my hall, and he's a jerk. He sleeps around with everyone."

"Look, if you're trying to make me feel better, you're doing a bloody bad job of it." Her London accent slipped through.

He smiled. He had nice teeth. "I'm sorry. I just remembered you from class, so I wanted to see how you were doing."

"Well, thanks. That's nice of you."

"Don't mention it."

She was feeling lousy, he was being so accommodating… Well, one thing led to another. When she woke up the next morning he was gone, but he left a note explaining that he had an early lab and asking her to join him for breakfast. He was nice, after all. Maybe he was different.

**-_-_-_**

**Two Months Later…**

**-_-_-_**

Isla did not like the fact that she was coming face-to-face with this bartender on a regular basis. He never said anything, a wise decision on his part.

Biology Class Jerk, as she now mentally labeled him, wasn't as nice as he had initially seemed. Oh sure, he had been attentive and caring, but apparently she wasn't as complying as he would have liked when it came to sex. After that first night, they hardly ever did it. He didn't seem to mind. She wasn't very open to the idea, because she didn't want it to be the focus. Obviously, he had different ideas. When she hesitated, he got annoyed, and finally she caught him at it. Well screw him. Damn the whole lot of the male sex to hell.

The only man she needed was Jack.

"Men are jerks," she said to no one in particular.

"Tell me about it."

She turned. It was a guy, no less.

"What do you have against your own kind?" she snapped.

"Jerk screwed my sister over. Got into her pants so fast she didn't know how to refuse. Then he dumps her. Just like that. Broke her heart. Just busted up my hands showing him what happens to jerks like him."

She found it annoying how he talked in short fragments rather than full sentences, but she admired how he stuck up for his sister, and he did seem to have the injuries to prove it.

"I'm a med student," she said suddenly. "Sorry about your sister, but I can help you out with those bloody knuckles if you like."

He smiled. "Say, thanks. That's great of you to do that."

He winced as she examined him.

"Well, I don't think anything's broken. Just keep them iced and take some aspirin, okay?"

"Yeah, sure, doc. Whatever you say."

Well, one good turn deserves another, right? The next morning, he was still there. He was awake before her and perusing her book shelf, but he had waited for her to wake up. Maybe this time she had a real chance.

**-_-_-_**

**A/N: Eh? Still good?**


	3. Day One: Roomies

**Co-authored with the effervescent SailingAwaySoftly.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, but we're working on that.**

**-_-_-_**

**San Francisco, California**

"Blimey, did you ever see so much sunshine?" Arlo asked his sister as they de-boarded the shuttle.

"Forget the sunshine," she huffed. "Have you ever been somewhere so _hot_? How do these people live like this?"

The recruits were herded into some sort of assembly hall before anyone really had time to grasp their surroundings. A few very officially-looking people were standing in the front of the hall waiting for all of them to take their seats. Bee and Arlo sat towards the front. There was a lot of murmuring from the crowd of a hundred and fifty or so recruits, but all fell silent and automatically stood when a middle-aged man, still tall and proud, entered the room. Confused, the twins copied everyone else and got to their feet.

"I'd like to welcome you all here today," said the man as they took their seats once again. "I'm Admiral Christopher Pike. Now, if you want to achieve the goals so many have set for yourselves and that others expect of you, you're going to have to work hard the next four years. Your course work will run you into the ground, your responsibilities as new cadets will stretch you thin, and some of you aren't going to graduate. But for those of you who do…"

Arlo instantly respected the man, but he couldn't make himself listen to the blah, blah, blah of the rest of Pike's inspirational speech. He didn't fall asleep, thank goodness, but Bee had to nudge him when the pep talk was finished.

"What's happening now?" he asked.

"Dunno."

"One of the most important decisions you will make while at the Star Fleet Academy is what to have as your focus. I'm sure many of you already know exactly what you want to do and have even made back-up plans. A few of you may be slightly indecisive, however. Who here has not chosen a focus?" Pike asked.

Bee and Arlo exchanged a look before standing hesitantly. There were whispers and a few chuckles from around them. Pike smiled kindly though, so they didn't feel half so bad.

"You two, report to Commander Ramsey."

Pike left, everyone stood, and the twins were called forward.

"Names?" a tall man who was apparently Commander Ramsey asked.

"Arlo Bell."

"Beatrice Bell."

"Follow me."

He led them to a small room to the side of the hall which contained a table with two chairs. The twins sat, and Ramsey walked to the far wall, entered a code into the wall's key screen, and returned to the table with two touch pads.

"This," he said, "is an aptitude test. It will give you an idea of what your focus should be."

Arlo stifled a groan, and Bee sighed a little. Ramsey raised an eyebrow but said nothing. They looked down at the test questions.

_Questions One: What is the formula for the area of a sphere?_

Arlo rolled his eyes. The reason he and Bee had been able to work for so much of their lives was because they had finished school early. They had been generally bored with school. Most of it was easy, and they learned much more by their own independent study than from an actual teacher. He keyed in the answer.

_Four-thirds pi times the radius cubed._

**-_-_-_**

**Two hours later…**

**-_-_-_**

"Your results," Ramsey said to them as he handed back the touch pads. He had taken them and given them to the room's computer to analyze.

Bee looked down at her results. _Navigations Officer._ "What does that mean?"

"It means you're skilled at complex calculations," Ramsey replied with a small smile. "You'll be a pilot or a navigator. You'll probably qualify for both."

She turned to her brother. "What did you get?"

"'Engineer,'" he replied. "Wanna trade?"

"Nah, I'd be rubbish at that."

Ramsey was at the wall key screen looking over something. "I have your room assignments here."

The twins stood.

**-_-_-_**

**At the dorms…**

**-_-_-_**

Arlo found his room easily. His roommate was already there, a sandy-haired man about his age with crackling blue eyes and freckles. He looked up at Arlo and smiled.

"_Bonjour_," he said brightly.

The answering smile fell from Arlo's face. A bloody Frog was his roommate. Fantastic.

"Hullo," he answered.

"Ach, you are English."

"Yeah, what's your point?"

"You must not be very happy that I am here."

Arlo shrugged. "Haven't met many Frogs, to tell you the truth. You seem alright, though."

"I thank you for that concession. My name is Beauchamp. Etienne." He offered his hand.

Arlo took it. "Bell. Arlo."

"Nice to meet you, Bell."

Despite himself, despite the Frog, Arlo smiled slightly.

Elsewhere, Bee had been exceedingly frustrated because she had been wandering around the halls of the dormitory for half and hour before finding her room. When she entered, it was already occupied by her roommate.

The woman looked a couple of years older than her, had reddish coppery hair, and was currently entwined in the limbs of a man. Bee felt her jaw drop. Shifting her weight uncomfortably from foot to foot, she cleared her throat.

With a surprised gasp, the woman sat straight up, shoving the man onto the floor. Eyes wide with shock, the guy jumped to his feet, grabbed his discarded clothing, and fled the room without so much as a word to Bee.

"Well," said the woman with a hesitant chuckle, "that was… awkward. Um…" She got up and pulled on some clothes. "Sorry about that. Really. I'm serious, it won't happen again." She had a hint of an accent. British, perhaps?

Bee shrugged and couldn't help but smile a little. "It's alright. You'll owe me one."

"You're English?" the woman asked as she quirked an eyebrow.

"Yeah. Liverpool. And you're… English too?"

"Yes! Oh, wow, it's great to have a fellow Brit here. Most people can't tell that I'm British, but I've just been in America for so long that I just lost the accent…" But even as she spoke, her London accent showed through even more.

"I'm Beatrice Bell," said Bee. "But please don't call me that. No one does. Call me Bee."

The woman smiled and extended her hand. "Nice to meet you, Bee. I'm Isla, by the way. Isla Knight. _Dr._ Isla Knight."

**-_-_-_**

**A/N: Review, please?**


	4. Absinthe and the Admiral

**Co-authored with the effervescent SailingAwaySoftly.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, but we're working on that.**

**-_-_-_**

**San Francisco, California, Six Months Later**

**-_-_-_**

"I'm telling you, this party is going to be talked about for years to come," some random cadet whispered in Arlo's ear.

"Yeah? Where's it going to be?" he whispered back.

"D Wing of the men's dorms. They're hosting it, and B Wing is planning it; there's a meeting tonight in B24 for job assignments."

The two quieted under a stern look from the officer at the front of the small lecture hall, but resumed their conversation when he turned back to the wall screen.

"I'll be there," said Arlo.

"Good. Hey, bring your sister too – she can help spread the news to the women's dorms."

Another piercing glance from the teacher silenced them for the rest of the period, and thankfully he did not hold them after class. Arlo made his way to the mess hall to meet Etienne and Bee. He wasn't sure if Isla was going to be there; she was a couple of years older than they were and already an officer. Apparently, doctors enlisting in Star Fleet were automatically made lieutenants.

He had to admit that the Academy food was about a thousand times better than anything he had ever consumed in his life, but no matter how large his appetite, he still hadn't shaken off that slightly unhealthy look that Liverpool's lower class generally acquired. After receiving his nourishment and balancing his food tray in one hand and his key screen in the other, he made his way to their usual spot. Bee was there already, but Etienne was standing a few tables away where he had stopped to talk to some girl in his relative physics course.

"Hullo," said Arlo and he dropped his tray onto the table. His red Jell-O jiggled precariously on the edge of his plate.

"Hullo," she replied, her tone somewhat sullen.

"Aw, Bee, what's the matter?" he asked, half sarcastic, half concerned.

"It's this stupid xenolinguistics course I'm being forced to take. Although I apparently lack the ability to see the obvious connection between alien languages and warp thrusters, I have been assured that the course is necessary. Since it's only one class, they did let me pick which language I wanted to study, however."

"Lucky you. So what did you choose?" he asked as he shoveled in a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

She scowled. "Well, I didn't have an actual choice, as it were. Because I hadn't picked a focus until we got here, pretty much all the xenolinguistics majors horned in on the good courses. There were only two left with openings."

"Which were…?"

"Wenyronapitologian and Vulcan," she replied, her sharp tone accented with a well-timed eye roll.

"Lemme guess which one you chose."

"Well, since I couldn't actually pronounce one, I figured I'd go with what sounded easy and just get the damn course out of the way."

"And…?"

"Vulcan isn't easy. At all. God, you should see some of the verb forms they use. In fact, they don't even define the word verb the same way we do. I will give them one thing though; there's only one dialect for the entire planet. Well, race, I should say. They aren't actually on Vulcan anymore, are they?"

"Nah. Some place very similar though, I think. I heard that the population has doubled in the past five years since they colonized."

Bee raised an eyebrow. "And since when are you so up to date on current events?"

"Some of us actually watch the news."

She snorted and returned her attention to her meal.

"Hey, I forgot to tell you," Arlo said. "Apparently, there's going to be a huge party soon, and we're having a meeting about it tonight. You've been asked to come."

She smiled faintly. "I'd be delighted. Anything illegal involved?"

He shrugged. "I'm sure there will be."

"Brilliant. Sign me up."

**-_-_-_**

**Later That Evening…**

**-_-_-_**

"Alright men! And, uh, Bee," said the dorm proctor of B Wing. "D Wing is providing the space, but it's up to us to make sure that this party is going to be talked about for future generations!"

Cheers and hollers ensued.

"I'm assigning specific jobs, and whoever's picked can choose however many people they need to help them with their task. Now… Jordan! – food. Minck! – cups, plates, etc. Enders! – security. Make sure no officers find out about this little get together. Bell! – alcohol."

Arlo grinned. When the rest of the jobs were assigned, the proctor took him aside for a moment.

"Bell, I know you're a first year, but this is one of the most important assignments. Do not fail. If you do, then you will be forever labeled a chump."

Arlo only continued to grin. "Don't worry, Peters. I'll take care of it."

"Good. And Bee," he said, motioning to her, "it's your job to spread this around the women's dorms. But keep it hush-hush, understand?"

She nodded. She turned to head back to her room, and her brother followed her.

"Just one question," she said before leaving. "Where the hell are you going to get that much alcohol?"

**-_-_-_**

**A Week Later…**

**-_-_-_**

Arlo had chosen Etienne and another B Wing-er named Corden to help him. Etienne had acquired enough beer for the entire fleet, and Corden had gotten as many bottles of scotch, whiskey, vodka, and margarita mix as he could get his hands on (it was also rumored that he had somehow acquired a whole crate of cocktail umbrellas). Arlo had taken care of the wine which he knew several of the women would probably prefer to anything else, but he had one last job to do before his task was complete.

Absinthe.

There had been horrifying rumors that it had once been illegal to produce, sell, and consume absinthe in any form or amount, and this he regarded as a true nightmare. However, since the stuff _was_ so powerful, it was kept under strict regulation, and the amount required for the party just was not readily available. Luckily, he had a few connections with an unnamed bartender, so he had gotten his hands on four bottles of it.

When he safely got back to his room, he stashed the precious green elixir under his bed and told Etienne about it. His roommate gave a low whistle.

"_Mon dieu,_" he said. "This party will be like no other, no?"

**-_-_-_**

**That Night…**

**-_-_-_**

The party was a hit. There was good music, good food, good booze – everything it needed to be a success. Everyone was exceedingly enjoying themselves, when _BAM!_ Three very angry commanders stood menacingly in the hallway entrance.

"IF ANY OF YOU HAVE ANY SENSE OF SELF-PRESERVATION LEFT, YOU'LL SCATTER!" Ramsey shouted. His sharp, authoritative voice had young men returning quietly to their rooms, heads bent, and girls scampering back to their dorms, some sobbing dramatically.

One of the other commanders had cornered Peters and Taylor, the wing proctors. The other had found Enders and was yelling at him about lying and deliberately deceiving an officer. Ramsey grabbed a hold of Bee's arm as she tried to pass and thrust out his foot so that Arlo would trip.

"Oh, no you don't," he hissed. "You two are coming with me."

He marched them out of the dorms and into the officers' quarters in the next building over. They were taken to a sort of reception room where Bee was told to sit and remain silent, while Arlo was hauled into an adjoining room. There he came face to face with Admiral Pike. He gulped.

"Sit down, cadet," the older man ordered. Arlo sat. "I suppose you can guess why you're in my private office in the middle of the night."

"I could guess, sir, but I'm not sure I could be specific enough," he answered cautiously.

To his surprise, Pike smiled a little. "Son, did you know that alcohol is prohibited in the student dormitories?"

"I was aware of that, sir," Arlo replied.

"Then tell me, are you also aware that you were in possession of an amount of absinthe which is illegal for anyone of any age to possess?"

"I was aware of that too, sir."

"Then I see no other course of action, cadet. You will be on probation for the next three weeks. You must report at noon every day without fail to me unless otherwise instructed, is that understood?"

Dumbfounded, Arlo's jaw dropped, but he nodded to show that he understood. "Sir, permission to speak freely," he eventually managed to say.

"Permission granted."

"Shouldn't I at least be suspended?"

"Would you like to be suspended, cadet?"

"No, sir. It's just… well, I would have suspended me."

"Well, son, that's why I'm an admiral and you're not." Pike smiled again. "I've been reading your file. You've only been here six months, yet you are shaping up to be one of the top students of your class. A suspension would weaken what chances you have of a good assignment once you graduate. Now, I fully believe that we are responsible for our own actions, and whether good or bad, we must face the consequences of every decision we make. However, instead of punishing you to the full extent of Star Fleet regulation, I've decided to appeal to your potential and give you the benefit of the doubt."

Shocked, Arlo took a deep breath. "Thank you, sir."

"Don't thank me yet. Just prove that I've made a good gamble. If I hear of you so much as thinking of putting one toe ever the line, I will send your ass straight back to Liverpool, understood?"

"Understood, sir," Arlo said, unable to contain his relieved smile.

"Thank you, Cadet Bell; that is all. Send your sister in now. You may wait for her or return to your dorm, which, by the way, I want spotless by tomorrow, and you can pass that message on to your classmates."

"Yes, sir." Arlo saluted and left.

Bee stood when he came back, and giving her a reassuring smile, he took the seat she had vacated as she hesitantly entered Pike's office.

"Sir?" she asked softly.

"Cadet Bell," he said slowly. "You partook in this evening's activities, did you not?"

"I did, sir."

"Like I told your brother, I do not want to hear of you or anyone else disobeying regulation like that again, understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. I'm glad you comprehend the gravity of your situation. However, that is not the reason I called you in here. I wanted to talk to you because I've received some slightly disturbing reports from your commanding officers."

Bee's stomach clenched. She had been at the party, but so had everyone else. Other than that, she couldn't think of any time when she had stepped out of character.

"You work hard in your courses, make top marks in your classes, and seem to be on good terms with your brother and your close friends. However," he went on to say, "some of the commanders have noted that, while you are a great pupil with much potential for a great career in Star Fleet, there is a strangeness to your behavior that gives cause for concern."

"My behavior, sir? Have I done something wrong?"

"Nothing wrong, per se, but Commander Ramsey and one of the medical commanders have both specifically noted that you are sometimes oddly withdrawn from your surroundings, and that sometimes you fail to express an appropriate emotional response to certain situations."

"I'm not sure I understand, sir."

"While you are inclined to act perfectly normally around your friends, there are some odd moments when you, for instance, should be happy or upset, and instead show no hint of emotion. Now, I understand that sometimes emotions are suppressed to avoid inopportune responses or unwanted attention, but the way you have been observed to carry yourself suggests that this is a much bigger problem."

"What sort of problem, sir?"

"Well, Medical Commander Rillo is of the opinion that you are depressed, cadet. Now, if this is true, as I suspect it may be, I want you to go see Dr. Rillo."

"My roommate is a doctor, sir," Bee said quickly. "And I'm not depressed, admiral, no offense. It's just been a little stressful the past few months, adapting to a different place. I'll go see Rillo if you order me to, sir, but it won't change my mind."

Pike considered the young woman standing before him a moment before answering. She was thinner than she should have been, and her ever-so-slightly gaunt yet pretty face had a hint of a greyish tint to it, much like her brother had looked. He knew where they had come from and what sort of lives they had, and he wanted to reverse all of that in them.

"I'll not order you, Cadet Bell, especially since your roommate is a doctor, but I will still ask you to go see Rillo. You may go now."

"Yes, sir." Salute.

**-_-_-_**

**Back at the Dorm…**

**-_-_-_**

Bee collapsed, tired and confused, onto her bed. Isla came in a few minutes later, her hair and clothes disheveled, and her lips still attached to some guy's. He seemed to leave reluctantly.

"Some night, huh?" Isla asked.

"Yeah," Bee said.

"What's with you? I heard you were taken to see the admiral. What did he say?"

"Nothing much. Just a warning. That's all."

"Oh, well, alright then."

Isla rolled over and turned off her light, not bothering to change for bed.

"That guy's a jerk," Bee said suddenly.

"Who is?" Isla asked, her voice already laced with sleep.

"That guy who was just here."

"And just what the hell would _you_ know about guys?" Isla demanded. "Bet you've never been with a man before."

Bee sneered. "I've had sex," she snapped. "I just don't make a habit of it as you do. And if that guy is any indication of your ability to judge character, then I know a hell of a lot more about men than you do."

**-_-_-_**

**A/N: So are ya happy this was a longer chapter? Canon characters coming soon, I promise! And yes, the red Jell-O was a nod towards the Red Matter in the movie (AKA Evil Red Jell-O of Death).**


	5. Commencement

**Co-authored with the effervescent SailingAwaySoftly.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, but we're working on that.**

**-_-_-_**

**Star Fleet Academy**

**Three Years Later**

**Graduation Day**

**-_-_-_**

Bee shifted uncomfortably in her seat. The hall was strangely silent despite the presence of nearly a thousand people. The graduation ceremony was about to begin, and she already couldn't wait for it to be over. She hated pomp and circumstance of any kind, but she could only sit and wait until her name was called.

After a few introductions, the commencement speaker stood and walked to the podium. The Blessing of the Fleet had been planned around the same time as graduation, so many of the starships had come back to Earth, and several prominent officers were present at the ceremony. But the one that was now standing before them made Bee's jaw drop.

She had never actually met a Vulcan before. Commander Spock, as Admiral Pike had introduced him to be, was first officer on the _U.S.S. Enterprise_, and Bee found herself actually sitting a little straighter in her seat. Her interest had been captured, certainly, and she wanted to know how long he could hold it.

_"Thank you, Admiral Pike. Cadets, you are here today because of your hard work and determination throughout your time at Star Fleet Academy. As I am sure you already know, every one of you comes from a different background: either from another continent or another planet entirely..."_

His voice was strange. It had a certain serenity to it that she had never heard before in a human. His demeanor was cool and focused. A quick glance around her showed Bee that the rest of the audience was also giving him their utmost attention. Maybe it was because he was a Vulcan, maybe it was the subtle air of authority he seemed to have. Whatever the case, she had never been so attentive to a speaker before.

_"Your background and the knowledge that you have gained here at Star Fleet Academy will serve you well in your future. The preparation you have endured here, despite its difficulties and the many frustrations many of you likely experienced, has prepared you..."_

Bee focused on the Vulcan's face. He had dark eyes, from where she was sitting, seemed to be analyzing his audience. Would he have any say on ship assignments? Was he merely measuring the potential of new recruits? It was hard to tell. She could tell that public speaking didn't bother him because he didn't keep his eyes fixed on one spot but rather cast them back and forth over the crowd. They passed over her for a moment, and she frowned slightly. It was unsettling.

_"To say that the skills required of you in your specialization is all that you have learned here would be completely illogical..."_

She wondered vaguely why he had been asked to give the commencement speech; she had thought that Admiral Pike would have given it. At least the Vulcan was interesting. Pike was a good speaker too, but Spock was _different_. Bee had the feeling that he was the sort of person whom you could never quite get used to. Maybe it was because he was an alien. But aside form his ears, he could have been a human, albeit a very peculiar human.

_"You will discover new places, encounter people and situations you have never encountered before, and, through the course of it all, you might find that you learn something about who you are..."_

Something about him unnerved her. The steadiness of his gaze, the subtle inflections of his voice, even his pointed ears - he made her squirm, and she found dislike for him growing in her. She had always been in control of herself. While she and Arlo were similar in countless ways, in one thing they differed completely: Her brother was apt to speak his mind and make known his emotions; Bee tended to be more reserved, testing a situation before acting. Arlo was by no means reckless, and the both of them had been in many reckless situations in their lives, but Bee was better able to analyze her surroundings. While Arlo could act quickly according to how events unfolded, she could anticipate them. Bee was exceedingly annoyed with Spock for eliciting such an inexplicable discomfort in her.

Commander Spock ended his short speech, and Pike took the floor again. Every last one of their names was called out, and after a couple of more speeches by cadets and officers, it was suddenly over. They had graduated from Star Fleet Academy. There would be celebrating that night, recovery for the next couple of days, and then they would receive their assignments. She could hardly believe it, but she couldn't have been more relieved.

Everyone filed out to the sound of cheers and laughter. There was much back-slapping, hand-shaking, and neck-hugging. Bee wormed her way through the crowd and found Isla. She only had time to congratulate her though, because Isla was soon off to find her latest boyfriend, so Bee turned to find Arlo. She caught sight of him talking to Etienne and his wife, Sarah. The two had been married for two and a half years, and they alread had a two year-old daughter named Adele. Bee hugged both of them, promised to see them later that night, and pulled Arlo away.

"What's up?" he asked her.

"Some commencement speaker, eh?" she replied.

"You're telling me. Really got your attention, didn't he? But I felt just a bit unsettled, personally. The way he talks - like nothing in the universe could shake him. Weird, eh?"

She nodded. "Don't think I'd ever get used to it."

"Me either." Arlo grinned. "So... Ready to celebrate?"

She grinned back. "You know it."

She looked around to see where Isla had got to and was surprised to find her friend sulking off to the side of the crowd. She walked quickly over.

"Hey, what's wrong?" she asked.

"It's Trent. He - I -" Isla proceeded to issue a long string of curses. Somewhere in the tirade, Bee made out that she had just caught Trent and another girl going at it in an empty side room.

Arlo walked up at that point. "What's going on?" he asked, eyeing the distressed Isla cautiously.

"Some stupid little prick that's about to get what's coming to him," Bee answered.

Arlo's most mischievous grin spread across his lips. "What exactly did you have in mind?"

Bee mirrored his devious expression. "I have a plan."

**-_-_-_**

**Later That Night at the Bar**

**-_-_-_**

Bee peeked in the bar before entering.

"Oh, yeah, he's in there alright. With that trashy little slut on his arm. The absolute nerve. What a prick."

"Okay, remember the plan," said Arlo as he took Isla's arm.

"Right."

Bee went in first, strolling casually up to the bar and taking a seat near Trent and his new toy. Said new toy rose a few minutes later to go to the ladies' room. Just as Bee ordered her first shot of Jack, she heard him say,

"That one's on me." His speech was a little slurred.

"No, thanks," she politely declined.

"No, really, I got it," he insisted.

She smiled a little condescending smile at him.

"Trent?"

He turned to see Isla looking strangely at him, Arlo's arm protectively around her shoulders.

"Isla? What are you doing here? With _him_?" Trent demanded.

"I'll go wherever I like with whoever I like," she snapped. "And what are _you_ doing hitting on my best friend?"

"On _my_ sister?" Arlo added.

"Oh, come on, Isla, it didn't mean anything!"

"Sure it didn't. Is that what you're going to tell the blonde toothpick when she gets back?"

"Tell me what?" The blonde toothpick walked up to them. "Trent, what is _she_ doing here?"

"_She_ is breaking up with this scumbag," Isla answered.

"Wait, _you_ didn't already break up with her?" she demanded of Trent. "You told me it was already over between you two!"

"Baby, listen, it's not what you -"

"What, have you been screwing both of us?" Blondie went on to say.

At that point, most of the bar had gone quiet and were intently watching the scene unfold. There were a couple of boos and hisses at Trent.

"What?! No, I -"

"I think you need to leave," Bee said. She proceeded to overturn her shot on Trent's head. Arlo, Isla, and everyone within a ten-foot radius followed suit. As he angrily stormed out of the bar, several people cheered, including the two men sitting closest to the trio. Bee and Arlo saw Etienne and Sarah walking in, so they high-fived and left to go sit with them as they had promised earlier. Isla turned to the bar and ordered a shot.

"You, cadet, are tough, and for that, I'll buy you a drink," said one of the two men to her. He was attractive, certainly, but after what she had just been through, Isla was still too shell-shocked to care.

"Really, you don't have to do that. In fact, I'd prefer if you didn't. Sorry." She sounded harsher than she had intended, but she was tired of strangers buying her drinks and then somehow ending up in their beds.

He looked slightly offended at her abruptness, and he turned to his friend. "Let's go, Jim. It's a little too icy in here."

Now truly angry, Isla stuck out her foot and tripped him as they turned to leave. "Bastard," she muttered.

"What was that, cadet?" he demanded.

"It's _lieutenant_, and I called you a bastard."

The one called Jim chuckled and left his friend standing there speechless.

"Oh yeah?" the man snapped. "Well, I'm a chief medical officer, which is the equivalent of a commander, so you watch yourself, _lieutenant_."

**-_-_-_**

**A/N: Enter Spock, Kirk and McCoy. Finally, a little canon for ya there. More in the next chapter, we promise!**


	6. Recommendation

**Co-authored with the effervescent SailingAwaySoftly.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, but we're working on that.**

**-_-_-_**

"Bones, I think she had you there," Kirk said as they made their way back to the Academy. Their night out had been cut short, but he wanted to see Pike anyway.

"Of all the nerve… Can you believe she said that? Just because I'm in medical doesn't make me any less of an officer," McCoy said vehemently.

"Of course not."

"We shouldn't have let her get away with that."

"Oh, come on, it's graduation, and she's obviously new. If she'd known we were officers, she probably wouldn't have been so… uh… disrespectful."

McCoy rolled his eyes. Jim had already managed to get buzzed, but he supposed that could be allowed after several very dry months on a starship. "I have a feeling that even if she had known we were officers, she would have acted exactly the same."

Kirk laughed loudly. "I don't care what you say, Bones, I like her -"

"Jim!"

"Not _that_ way. She's got spunk though. I think I'll say something to Pike about her assignment..."

"Jim, don't you dare."

His friend only grinned mischievously. "In fact, let's go see him now."

"You know, I have a vaccine for giant scorpion spiders here -"

Kirk bolted as fast as he could in the opposite direction.

**-_-_-_**

**Back at the Bar**

**-_-_-_**

Etienne stretched as he and Sarah stood to leave.

"What, you're going already?" Arlo asked.

"We need to get back to Adele," said Sarah. "We've both been really bust lately, and I hate to leave her with a sitter so much."

They rose to leave, promising to see them the next day.

"Well," said Arlo as he stretched, "I think I'll have another drink. Want one?"

"No, thanks," Bee replied. "I think I'll go for a walk. Clear my head."

He frowned slightly. "Something on your mind?"

"No, not really. I suppose it's a bit overwhelming, is all. See you later."

Arlo was slightly bewildered, but when she was gone, he left the table and went to sit at the bar and ordered a beer.

"Did ya graduate today, laddie?" someone said beside him.

He turned to see an officer sitting beside him. He looked like the sort of person you could easily be friends with.

"Yes, sir," he replied.

"Oh, don't call me that. I'm not much of an officer. Montgomery Scott." He extended his hand.

"Arlo Bell," he said, taking this hand.

"Have you been assigned yet?"

"No, Mr. Scott, we don't get them until the day after tomorrow."

"What ship would ya like to be on?"

"I'm not sure, actually. I suppose where I'm needed most is where I'll go."

"What's your focus?"

"General engineering. I've been trying to improve the planet-to-ship beaming formula so that the molecular transfer doesn't take more than five seconds. And I've been researching the containment levels of ships' dilithium chambers. I think there would be a way to maximize the containment so that the power of the ship will be increased."

"A man after my own heart! I've been trying to improve that formula for a few years now! Have you had any progress?"

"A little, but I don't have access to as many resources as I would like."

"Oh, laddie, I have a feeling that we're going to be great friends."

**-_-_-_**

**The Academy**

**-_-_-_**

The night was unusually cool as Bee strolled back to her dorm, but she didn't mind. It was refreshing, and she felt full of energy despite the long day she'd had. The sidewalk she was walking on crossed a bridge, and she stopped at the top and looked out over the river. It was prettier at night than it was in the day, mostly because she didn't care for the California sun. She liked sun well enough, but she liked it to be regularly interrupted with some rain. Liverpool was good for that.

She reviewed the events of the day in her head. Getting up and eating breakfast had been normal enough. Commander Spock had been discomforting, certainly, so she didn't dwell on that long. She hadn't really felt any sadness that supposedly came with graduation. In fact, she was happy to be finished. Now she could move on, possibly leave Earth, and start over. She was grateful for Star Fleet and the chance it had given her. She exhaled slowly closed her eyes just to savor the breeze on her face.

"Long day?" someone asked.

She opened her eyes to find a pretty officer standing beside her.

"Er, yeah, I suppose so. Graduation."

"Oh, really? What's your focus?"

"Uh..."

"Oh, I'm sorry. This must be weird. I was just walking back to the Academy, and I saw you here, so I thought I'd stop to talk."

"No, that's... Wait, did you think I'd jump?"

"No. If you did, you wouldn't be hurt much. I don't think this bridge is very high."

"Nah, it isn't... Who are you?"

"Sorry. Lieutenant Uhura."

"Bee Bell."

Uhura laughed a little. "That's your name? Bee Bell?"

"It's Beatrice, actually, but I dunno, Bee just stuck when I was little. And you're just Lieutenant Uhura? No first name?"

"It's Nyota. Most people just call me Uhura though. So, your focus?"

"Navigation. I'm a pilot. But I had this completely ridiculous xenolinguistics requirement. Not that there's anything wrong with xenolinguistics, but it was just strange."

"Yeah, I hear that a lot. Xenoling was my focus. What did you take?"

"Vulcan. It was hard, but I liked the challenge. The language was just strange. I don't know - it just got into my head."

A strange look briefly passed over the lieutenant's face. "Yeah, I know what you mean. Do you know your assingment yet?"

"No, I find out the day after tomorrow. Then there's the Blessing of the Fleet, and then it's off to where ever they send me."

"Have you heard of the _Enterprise_?" Uhura asked.

"Oh, sure. Isn't Commander Spock on that ship?"

"Yes, he is. I am too. Or, rather, I was. I'm being reassigned." Uhura sounded a little flustered.

"What? Why? Everyone's always talking about that ship, about it's captain, about where it's gone..."

"I know. I'm just ready for something else. So, I requested a reassignment."

"Oh, well, good luck then," said Bee. "It was nice to meet you, Lieutenant."

"Yeah, you too."

Uhura watched Bee's retreating back, and an idea made its way into her head. She had an assignment recommendation to make to Admiral Pike.

**-_-_-_**

**Later That Night...**

**-_-_-_**

"Uhura! Imagine seeing you here!"

"I didn't expect you to still be sober, Jim."

"Well, you know me, but Bones wanted to leave the bar, so I couldn't very well stay there by myself." He grinned hugely.

Bones nodded at Uhura from his place in the corner of the small room, a scowl on his face.

The door opened again, and Scotty walked in, followed by Spock. Uhura averted her gaze.

"Hey, it's a party!" Kirk said excitedly. "And what are you two doing here?"

"I encountered Mr. Scott on my way back and decided to accompany him here," Spock answered placidly.

"I'm here to make an assignment recommendation to Admiral Pike," said Scotty.

"What a coincidence! We are too." Kirk may not have been drunk, but he was definitely a little buzzed.

Scotty and Kirk immediately began discussing their recommendations, while McCoy stood moodily in his corner. Uhura sat apart from the others and examined her nails. Spock stood in the corner opposite Bones, his eyes closed, looking as though he were thinking intently about something.

Kirk, Scotty and Bones went in first, but Uhura preferred to stay behind; she wanted to speak to Admiral Pike alone.

"You are unusually quiet tonight, Lieutenant," Spock said after a few moments.

"I've had a lot on my mind."

"Are you still going to request a transfer?"

"Yes. Spock, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, but I can't do it anymore. Every time you beam down to some planet God knows where and get yourself into danger - it's too hard. And it doesn't seem to bother you at all. But I'm just tired of holding my breath."

"Nyota, you should know more than anyone that I feel fear, that I am truly sorry for the worry you go through."

"I know, I know, but you're always so calm, and it's just so hard that you never lose control of yourself."

"That is not true. You have seen me uncontrolled. But I understand what you are saying, what you are feeling. You want me to be more human, to show that side of myself more."

"You're half human, Spock! Is it really so hard?"

"Yes," he answered quietly. "You appeal so greatly to the fact that I am half human that you forget that I am also half Vulcan - the half of me that is dominant by choice and by genetics."

"I know," she said sadly. "I'm sorry for trying, for even wanting, to change you. I should never have asked such a thing. But I can't bring myself to compromise on this. I can't change myself first."

"I understand, Nyota. I am sorry, too. You deserve what I cannot give."

"Spock... Thank you."

He quirked an eyebrow. "For what?"

"For everything. For calming me down, for helping me, for assigning me to the _Enterprise_."

"And thank you, Lieutenant. For making me remember that I am half human."

He turned to leave.

"Commander, wait."

He paused. Uhura suddenly threw her arms around his neck. He reciprocated the embrace.

"I still love you, I suppose," she whispered.

"I know."

"But it's not enough."

"I understand. Good-bye."

He left, and Uhura turned to face the three who had just come out of Pike's office.

"Lieutenant," Kirk said, all joking gone from him, "it there something you need to tell us?"

**-_-_-_**

**A/N: You're welcome. Jeez, that was hard. Love you guys and your reviews!**


	7. Just Being Realistic

**Co-authored with the effervescent SailingAwaySoftly.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, but we're working on that.**

**-_-_-_**

"Why don't you two head back?" Kirk said to Scotty and McCoy. "I'll be there in a few minutes."

They left without a word.

"Lieutenant?"

"I'm here to request a reassignment, Captain."

"A reassignment? Why, for god's sake?"

"I think the _Enterprise_ is a little more than I bargained for," Uhura answered quickly. "I think I'd prefer to be somewhere a little less… dangerous."

"Bullshit. What did Spock say? What's the matter with you two?" Kirk asked.

"Not that it's any of your business, _Captain_, but if you must know, we're just too different," she snapped.

"Is that all? Hell, _I_ could have told you that. Isn't part of relationships working through huge differences like race, for instance."

"_Species_," Uhura corrected, "and I doubt _you'd_ know." When Kirk had nothing to say to that, she continued. "I'm sorry, Jim. I didn't mean to speak to you like that."

"Of course you did," he said, putting an arm around her. "You're upset. And since Spock is the problem, I guess it's not fair for me to try to convince you to stay… But is it really that bad?"

"When I said that the _Enterprise_ was too dangerous, I wasn't lying," she said quietly.

"It's just that you meant you'd prefer to be anywhere but on that bridge wondering whether or not Spock's going to come back alive," he finished. "I understand. Thanks, by the way, for worrying about me," he added a little more lightly.

She smiled a bit. "You know perfectly well that I do. But you're right about Spock."

"Well, _Nyota_," he said, chancing her first name, "I can't very well leave him up there. He _is_ my first officer."

"I know, I know, but we're too different, and it's just too hard. This is once challenge I don't think I'll win, Jim. So, I'm requesting a reassignment."

He sighed. "Fine, Lieutenant." He stood. "Well, I guess I'll see you at the Blessing."

She nodded. "I also have a recommendation for Admiral Pike for the _Enterprise_."

"Well, I'm glad I can trust your judgment. And hey – good luck."

"You too, Jim."

**-_-_-_**

"Lieutenant Uhura," Admiral Pike said as she entered his office, "what can I do for you?"

"I would like to request a transfer, Admiral," she said as she sat down.

He raised an eyebrow. "You want to be reassigned?"

"Yes, sir."

"If I recall correctly, I seem to remember Commander Spock telling me that you practically demanded to be assigned to the _Enterprise_."

Her eyes widened. "Oh, he told you that?" She laughed nervously.

"Yes, he did, as a matter of fact. Which is why I'm surprised you're asking for a transfer. Is Kirk bothering you?" he asked with a small smile.

"No, it's for personal reasons, sir," she said quickly. "I just think it's in everyone's best interest if I leave the _Enterprise_."

"Lieutenant, while it may be in everyone's best interest, ending a relationship is painful."

"Sir?"

"Uhura, all I'm saying is that once I reassign you, you're going to run yourself in the ground regardless of which ship you're on. I'll give you your transfer, but only on the condition that you'll take a couple of weeks furlough."

"A couple of weeks?"

"Yes, Lieutenant. You need some time to rest and think all this through. I'm not trying to pry into your personal life, but as your superior officer, I say you are not fit for duty. As someone who cares about you, I say that I'm worried you'll burn yourself out, leaving more damage – regulation aside. Do yourself a favor and have a holiday for once."

She didn't want to, but if it meant getting her transfer, she wasn't going to argue. "Yes, sir. Thank you."

Pike nodded. "Now, was there anything else, Lieutenant?"

"As a matter of fact, there was, sir."

"Yes?"

"I would like to make an assignment recommendation."

"For yourself?"

"No, sir. I trust your judgment of where to place me. It's for one of the new graduates."

"First Kirk, then Scott, and now you. I suppose you're recommending this person for the _Enterprise_?"

"Yes, sir."

Pike sighed. "Alright then. Who is it?"

"Beatrice Bell, sir."

Pike smiled. "You're recommendation is unnecessary, Lieutenant. Ensign Bell has already been assigned to the _Enterprise_. It's funny that you should recommend her though; Kirk was here to do the same for her roommate, and Scotty for her brother. As I said before, your recommendation is unnecessary, but I'm glad she has your approval. That's really saying something."

"Thank you, sir."

Pike stood, and Uhura followed. "I'll not give you your assignment until you've had you rest, alright? Dismissed, Lieutenant."

**-_-_-_**

**The Next Day…**

**-_-_-_**

Isla groaned as someone suddenly snatched the comforter off her. She shivered as the cold air hit her body.

"_Leamelone_," she growled.

"It's your own bloody fault for drinking too much last night," Bee snapped. Her voice was harsh against Isla's hung-over eardrums.

"What the hell's so important?"

"Our assignments, that's what!"

Isla shot out of bed and immediately regretted it. Head swimming, she stumbled to the bathroom, vomited once for good measure, and crawled into the shower. The hot water felt good, and it helped wake her up. When she was done, she didn't bother to dry her hair, but she quickly brushed her teeth and pulled on a uniform. Bee was ready and waiting for her when she emerged in a considerably better state.

"We're going to be late," Bee said. She was irritated.

"Well, you didn't have to wait."

"'Course I did. I wasn't going to make you walk in by yourself."

"Thanks."

They were only a few minutes late to the assembly, and Arlo had saved them seats. No one really seemed to take notice of them, and nothing important had happened yet. Admiral Pike was speaking.

"… In a few minutes, you'll all go to your squadrons to receive your assignments. After the Blessing of the Fleet tomorrow, you will report to your commanding officers and board your ships. I'll not see any of you again for several months, so all I have now to say is good luck."

They all stood and filed out of the auditorium. Bee, Arlo, and Isla were all in squadrons, so they separated and met up with their commanders outside of the hall. It was a nice day, and with officers and crewmembers of the Fleet swarming in for the Blessing, the main hangar was too busy and too crowded. They would receive their assignments on the lawn.

The commanders went down the list alphabetically, so Isla didn't have to wait long for her assignment.

"… Knight – _U.S.S. Enterprise_."

She was surprised. There were only a couple of ships that she would really have hated to be assigned to, but she wasn't expecting such good luck as to be assigned to the _Enterprise_.

She waited impatiently as her commander called out everyone else's names. When they were finally dismissed, she hurried off excitedly in search of Bee and Arlo. She spotted them heading toward her, huge grins on their faces.

"I'm assigned to the _Enterprise_," all three said in unison. "Wait, you too?" They laughed.

"That's odd," said Arlo. "What are the odds?"

"Someone must love us," Bee said.

"At any rate, it's great that we haven't been split up," said Isla.

"That doesn't matter so much. We'll be so busy with our separate duties that we probably won't see much of each other."

Arlo made a face. "Bee, don't be so damn depressing."

"I'm only being realistic."

**-_-_-_**

**A/N: YAY! Boy, betcha didn't see THAT one coming, did ya?**


	8. Bzz

**Co-authored with the effervescent SailingAwaySoftly.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, but we're working on that.**

**-_-_-_**

**Immediately After the Blessing of the Fleet**

**-_-_-_**

The Blessing of the Fleet had been memorable, but there was really nothing new. A few inspirational speeches, the christening of two new starships, and then the actual blessing – all the usual pomp and circumstance. Bee endured it. At least they were outside and able to enjoy fresh air and not forced to sit for a couple of hours in a stiff chair. The recruits had no time to mill about and mingle once the ceremony was done because their commanders immediately swarmed in, barking orders and organizing them into squadrons based on ship assignments.

Aside from Isla and Arlo, Bee only vaguely recognized a couple of other people who had been assigned to the _Enterprise_. The commander was barking out orders incessantly, and organized chaos ensued around them. After a few minutes, the _Enterprise_ squadron was sent to the main hangar for transport. Bee and Arlo sat together with the other new ensigns while Isla sat towards the front with the officers. Arlo was fidgeting in his seat, impatient to be on the _Enterprise_. Bee was impatient too, but she sat still, despite her reeling mind.

Once the ship was in sight, Arlo was practically bursting with energy. There was a collective gasp as everyone looked out the windows. They all knew what the ship looked like, of course, but seeing it in reality was quite another thing than seeing a diagram of it. The _U.S.S Enterprise_ was incredible. The main disk was much larger than Bee had imagined it to be, and there was a collective widening of eyes as they came up alongside the ship and prepared to dock.

As they all stood to get off the craft, the commanders immediately began organizing them again, this time by area of specialty. Isla and the only other two medical personnel – two nurses – followed one commander. She turned back and waved at them before leaving. Arlo and seven other engineers were led off by another commander, and it was only then that Bee realized that she was by herself. She was the only new navigator assigned to the _Enterprise_. She suddenly felt very nervous and struggled to maintain a completely calm composure.

"Bell, Beatrice?" a commander asked her.

"Yes, sir."

"Come with me. You're needed on the bridge."

_Bloody hell. What for?_ she thought.

"You'll need to change first," the commander said, and he took her to what was more or less a huge walk-in closet with changing rooms, stocked with uniforms for men and women in just about every size they made them in. "You can put your cadet uniform down one of the chutes. You'll need a yellow uniform now."

She went inside and did as instructed. As a female cadet, she had flatly refused to wear a female cadet's uniform. She wasn't going to change that now. She looked through the men's uniforms and picked out one that looked like the smallest size. It fit her perfectly. She found a dull yellow shirt of the same size and fingered the Star Fleet emblem on it for a moment before pulling it over her head. She pulled on the smallest pair of men's boots she could find and vacated the glorified closet. The commander raised an eyebrow.

"Ensign, that's not a woman's uniform," he said.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I'm more comfortable in this. I really don't think it matters as long as I'm wearing a uniform, sir."

The commander sighed but said nothing further on the matter. She followed him into an elevator, and they ascended to the main hull. A few seconds later, the elevator stopped, and they were at the bridge. The doors opened, and Bee timidly followed the commander on deck. An Asian man – the pilot – was preparing the ship for launch. Several other officers were scurrying around, pressing buttons on control boards. Commander Spock, she realized with a nervous twinge in her stomach, was talking to who could only be Captain Kirk. And then she actually recognized him. He had been at the bar a few nights before with that other man. They hadn't been in uniform at that time, so she hadn't recognized them as officers, and Bee's nervousness only intensified.

"Where is Chekov?" Kirk asked no one in particular as he finished his conversation with Spock.

"He spent most of his shore leave in Russia, Captain," the pilot replied. "Dr. McCoy ordered him to sleep off the time change when he stumbled out of the shuttlecraft a few minutes ago."

"Thank you, Mr. Sulu," Kirk said. He was irritated. "And who are you?" he demanded when he caught sight of the commander and Bee.

They stood at attention. "Commander Simmons, Captain. This is Ensign Bell. She's Ensign Chekov's relief," he explained.

"At ease," said Kirk. "Are you a new recruit?" he asked Bee.

"Yes, sir."

"Hmm. And you are a navigator?"

"Yes, sir. And a pilot."

"You think you can help Sulu get us out of the space dock and up to warp speed and into deep space, Ensign?"

"Yes, Captain."

Kirk smiled. "Alright then. Show us what you've got."

Commander Simmons left, and Bee awkwardly took her seat beside Sulu.

"Got a first name, Ensign Bell?" Kirk asked her as he sat in the captain's chair.

"It's Beatrice, sir."

"No, seriously?"

She did not turn around from her control panel, but rather continued to work while speaking. "Is there something wrong with my name, sir?"

"No, no. It's just that I didn't picture you as a Beatrice."

"If it helps, Captain, everyone calls me Bee for short."

"Bee? You mean like the insect?"

"If you like, sir."

"_Bzz_."

That annoyed her. She'd heard all about James T. Kirk, but she wished he could act a bit more mature.

"Do you make a habit of irritating new crewmembers, Captain?" she asked, her voice perfectly calm and controlled, no hint of aggravation.

There was a dreadful pause before he answered. "I apologize, Ensign. Really, I couldn't tell you were annoyed. I was just trying to loosen you up! You look a little stressed."

She smiled a little, despite herself. She could tell that he was truly sorry. "Well, it _is_ my first day, sir."

He laughed at that and then proceeded to order a few more commands. Bee wasn't nervous about getting things right. She could do this in her sleep. But the fact that she was being monitored bothered her quite a bit, so she concentrated hard on doing everything exactly right.

"Detaching from space dock now, sir," she said.

"Thank you, Ensign Bell. Mr. Sulu, are we ready for warp?"

"Yes, sir."

"Maximum warp then, if you please."

**-_-_-_**

**Medical** **Bay**

**-_-_-_**

The _Enterprise_ may have gotten off to a smooth start, but it was chaos in the medical bay. Isla walked in with the other new recruits to find a few nurses running around frantically. One nurse was tending to someone who was bleeding profusely from their nose, and they had bruises up and down their arms. Isla strode over to assess the situation.

"What's going on here?" she demanded.

"He's a hemophiliac, so I gave him coagulation factors, but the bleeding's just gotten worse," the nurse said.

Isla rolled her eyes and took the man's chart. "Did you look at which deficiency he has?"

"Yes, Lieutenant, he's Factor XI deficient," said the nurse. She was trying to stem the flow of the man's blood. He was now lying on his back, looking very pale.

"So he's a type C. Wow, that's rare. And you gave him coagulation Factor XI?"

"Yes, of course."

"Let me see."

The nurse handed her the vial. Isla took one glance at it and groaned.

"Didn't you _read_ the label? You gave _blood thinners_ to a hemophiliac," she snapped.

The nurse's eyes widened. "Oh! I was sure I grabbed the right vial! They're right next to each other…"

"Save it," Isla snapped. She proceeded to grab the correct vial and load it into the syringe. She stuck it into the man's neck, giving him the entire dose. He groaned. "I know you feel terrible," she said calmly to him. "I'm sorry; you'll be fine in a bit." She cleaned up the blood from his face and made sure that the bleeding stopped completely before turning to the nurse. "Once his blood's thick enough, he'll need a transfusion. Clean up this mess and let me know when those bruises darken up." She turned to go regain control of the rest of the nurses, but she stopped for a moment. "Where's your chief medical officer?"

"He was called away from the sick bay on an emergency. He should be back in a few minutes," the nurse said.

"So he's gone for just a little while and all of you manage to throw the whole place into chaos?"

She didn't wait for an answer and instead went to sort through the other problems. The two new nurses who came aboard with her were going about doing the same thing. Once everything was settled, she went back to check on the hemophiliac. He was a little more lucid, but he was still very pale. She looked at his chart again.

"I need some O negative over here!" she barked.

Just as she finished injecting the IV into the man's arm, the doors to the medical bay opened, and a doctor walked in, supporting a woman against him. A nurse rushed forward to help him get the woman settled onto a bed. Once he saw that the nurse had everything under control, the doctor stood up straight and turned, catching sight of Isla.

Her jaw dropped. He was the man from the bar a few nights before who had offered to buy her a drink. _That's not bloody funny_, she thought to herself.

"Well, well, look who it is," he said, his voice icy. "It's the _lieutenant_."

"_You're_ the chief medical officer on the _Enterprise_? Sir,' she added quickly.

"Last time I checked. What's been going on here?"

"I'm not sure, but when I got here, it was chaos. You're welcome, by the way, for sorting it out, sir."

He gave her a look, but said nothing to her tone. "And what's wrong with him?" he asked, indicating the man with the transfusion IV.

"He came in with a bloody nose, and he also happens to have hemophilia. One of your nurses accidentally gave him blood thinners, but he's sorted now."

McCoy raised an eyebrow, and for a moment he almost looked impressed. "Good. Well, Lieutenant, now that he's _sorted_, you can take care that woman? She has a hiatal hernia."

Isla walked over to have a look. "So, how are you feeling?"

"Not very well," the woman replied, grimacing.

"Well, tell me what's wrong."

The woman proceeded to list her symptoms. She mostly complained of abdominal pain, which was common with a hiatal hernia, and heartburn, which could've been the result of a number of different things.

"I suppose I'll just check you over, then."

Isla raised the hem of the woman's shirt and gently pressed her fingertips along the woman's upper abdomen. The woman made no reaction.

Isla's brows furrowed, "Miss, where exactly was this 'abdominal pain' that you're experiencing?"

"Uh, lower?" The woman replied tentatively.

Isla nodded, lowering the woman's shirt back over her stomach, "I'm going to need to look at your lower abdomen."

The woman simply stared back at Isla. Isla raised an eyebrow, "I need to lower your skirt, if that's not a problem."

"Oh, right! Yes, go ahead, Doctor."

Isla shook her head, pulling down the top of her skirt, and, just as she had suspected, there was a lump slightly protruding from underneath the woman's skin.

"Doctor," she called over her shoulder, "it's not a hiatal hernia, it's an inguinal hernia."

She heard him sigh before walking over.

"Of course it's hiatal. I diagnosed her myself."

"Sir, it's inguinal. Her abdominal pain was occurring in the _lower_ abdomen, and there's also a small lump near her groin."

Clearly irritated, he re-evaluated the patient. "It seems you're correct, Lieutenant – what was your name, again?"

"Knight. Isla."

"Fine then. I'm McCoy."

**-_-_-_**

**A/N: Sorry it's taken so long to update! This chapter was harder to write, but it's also longer. Enjoy! And PLEASE review…**


	9. Problem

**Co-authored with the effervescent SailingAwaySoftly.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, but we're working on that.**

**-_-_-_**

**Engineering**

**-_-_-_**

"No, no, no!" Scotty barked. "You have to use _this_ formula! Di'n' any of ya learn how to tell the right side of a cylinder?!"

Arlo laughed to himself as he and a couple of other engineers scrambled to correct the mistake under Scotty's sharp orders. He was forever joking with his "boys" as they almost instantly became known, but he was absolutely serious when it came to the ship. He drove them hard, and he let no mistake, however small, go unnoticed. But, at the end of the shift, they all went up to the observation deck and made use of their daily alcohol ration. It was almost like an engineering cult, and Scotty was the Grand Poobah, so to speak.

"Y'know, we Scots still have a terrible time of it," he said night after they had been in space about a week. "Everyone still thinks of us as backwards hill and loch people!" They all laughed. "And just listen to the accent – we're obviously _completely_ uncivilized. But y'know, laddies, I've never even eaten haggis before? That must be why I joined Star Fleet. Me, I'm a Scot with a brain. Couldn't have the likes of me tarnishin' the Scottish stereotype! Did I ever tell ya the time when…."

Scotty was full of hilarious anecdotes, half of which were probably completely untrue. He liked an audience, but he always let his boys have their own fair share of attention. They all joked and laughed and made a point of ridiculing each other simply for the fun of it.

"Lads, as you may know, Ensign Bell here is the newest in our number." He whopped Arlo on the back. "But ya'd never know by the way he works. I don't think I've ever seen potential like that in someone so green – besides myself." They laughed. "Too bad the lad's a bloody Scouser, eh?" More laughter.

This didn't bother Arlo in the slightest. Since he was new, he expected such treatment, s he laughed with the others. He also knew that Scotty wasn't serious. Even if he were, Arlo still respected the man too much to care whether or not he was made fun of because he was from Liverpool. Other new recruits throughout the entire crew were in similar situations, and few were stupid enough to take any of it to heart.

Scotty hounded Arlo the most down in the engine rooms, only because he liked him the best. Any mistake he made was twice as bad, because he had twice as much potential as the other engineers. Any spare time was used to work on perfecting the beaming formula, but they hadn't yet had any real opportunities to test it.

"Y'know, laddie," Scotty said to Arlo one day, "It's hard living on a starship. But it's worth it just to be able to do this."

"It's a lot easier than living in Liverpool," Arlo answered. "This is the first honest job I've had. I get three meals a day, don't have to keep looking over my shoulder, and can do something worth doing that I'm actually good at."

"Oh, ya say that now, lad, but the fun hasn't even started yet!" Scotty laughed. "Incidentally, if this is the first honest job you've had, what did ya do before?"

"I stole things. Pawned what I stole. Since I was thirteen."

"Aye, ya have a keen eye and a quick hand?"

"I didn't do it for the fun of it." Arlo really didn't like to talk about this to anyone, but he knew Scotty would listen and understand. "When Dad died, we didn't have much, and Mum had a baby. There wasn't any good work for us, so we did odd jobs, but it still wasn't enough. So, we stole. We stole and stole and stole to feed that baby." He was talking more to himself now, his voice growing lower and angrier. "She still died. We still stole. Figured we weren't good for anything else."

"That's too bad," said Scotty. "Life's not always fair, is it? Is that why you enlisted? To give your life a higher purpose?" He smiled in his attempt to philosophically assess the circumstances.

Arlo chuckled. He was glad that Scotty had not acted with too much sympathy. He didn't want any. "The thought to join Star Fleet had never occurred to us, actually. But I suppose it's given me purpose enough."

"Were ya sober when you enlisted then?" Scotty grinned.

"We were caught. We were… _invited_ to enlist. By a magistrate."

Scotty's laughed boomed out in the engine room. "Aha, laddie, that's the best reason I've heard yet!"

**-_-_-_**

**Sick** **Bay**

**-_-_-_**

"Lieutenant, as your superior officer, you are to address me as 'sir' or 'doctor,' understood?" McCoy snapped.

"For the last time, _sir_, I was concentrating too much on keeping the patient alive to think about rank formalities," Isla retorted.

"That's understandable, but you _persisted_ in your insubordination."

"I don't see _why_ you make such a big deal about _rank_, seeing as we're _both_ doctors, making me just as qualified as you."

"The fact of the matter is, _lieutenant_, that I _am_ your commanding officer, so you're just going to have to live with that. Think of me as the attending and yourself as the resident."

"Whatever you say, _commander_." She emphasized the last word with glaring sarcasm.

Frustrated as he was, McCoy merely nodded and turned on his heel to go check on a patient.

"But I'm still gonna call you _Mac_," she muttered as she herself returned her attention to a patient. From the corner of her eye, she saw him pause for a fraction of a second. Well, he had heard her after all.

The doors to the medical bay pinged as they opened. Isla looked up to see Bee.

"Hey!" she said. "Wow, I've barely seen you since we came on board."

"Yeah, our shifts are so strange. I'm actually about to go on," said Bee.

"I'm about to get off, if Dr. McSnark over there'll release me."

Bee blinked once. "There are _so_ many ways I could interpret that statement." The corners of her mouth turned up into a mischievous half-smile. She rarely fully grinned, and that was usually only when she was with Arlo. Isla supposed it was just a twin thing. But that was the beauty of Bee's sense of humor. She didn't have to be loud or obvious. Sometimes her sarcasm was so subtle you really _couldn't_ tell whether or not she was actually serious. She didn't mind if nobody got the joke, because she wasn't a performer for the masses. People who understood her were the only ones who mattered.

Isla smiled back. "I'm off, sir," she called to McCoy. He nodded curtly. The two women walked together for a bit.

"What has he ever done to you to make you hate him so much?" Bee asked after a moment.

"Who? Mac? I don't hate him, and I don't suppose he's done anything. But I sort of… _mouthed_ _off_ to him in the bar that night without knowing who he was."

"So you're both going to act like children and not apologize either way?"

"Apologies are no fun. Hey," she said, stopping suddenly, "could you take something down to engineering for me?"

"Right now? I'm about to go on shift."

"Yes, because I'm a lieutenant and you're an ensign, your shift doesn't start for another fifteen minutes, and I have some sleep I need to catch up on. Please?"

Bee sighed but agreed. She followed Isla back to their quarters where she was presented with a large box. It wasn't overly heavy, but it was awkward to carry.

"What the bloody hell do you have in here?" she asked.

"Some spare parts, a few tools, and a couple of instruments form med school," said Isla. "Arlo said they could melt the metal down and put it to good use."

"Isla, I doubt engineering is so poorly supplied that they'd result to melting down spare metal."

"Who says it's for the ship? I think he's experimenting or something. I dunno." She shrugged.

"Fine," Bee sighed. "I'll see you later, maybe."

She traipsed out of their quarters and headed towards the nearest lift. The box hadn't been heavy at first, but the awkward way she had to hold it made it feel as though it weighed more than it actually did. With not inconsiderable relief, she dropped the box with a jingling _thud_ once she was in the lift. She was about to key in her destination when someone stepped quickly inside. She tensed.

"Commander Spock," she said quickly.

"Ensign Bell," he replied.

The nerve of him, standing there so calm and collected when something inside her head was screaming for her to run away. She had never addressed him before now, but he always made her uncomfortable. She didn't know why. There was no reason, no logic, to this fight or flight response. Well, at least the flight response. She hated him for that. Hardly anything fazed her. But being in such close proximity to this man, this Vulcan, transcended her considerable control and made her squirm inside. Then she remembered they were in a lift.

"Where to, sir?" she said, her calm voice belying her anger. This she could do. This she was exceptional at.

"The bridge, as you are doubtlessly headed yourself," he replied. He was always calm, but his voice wasn't flat and monotone. It would have sounded interesting, almost mesmerizing, if it hadn't been so damned unnerving.

"Actually, sir, I'm going to engineering for a few minutes before I start my shift." She tapped the box next to her with her toe. "Delivery." Her control was amazing. Forcing herself to sound natural and at ease gave her focus.

He raised an eyebrow. "If you would explain."

"Scrap metal. I'm not sure what it'll be used for, but I'm just taking it down there as a favor. And, I suppose it's an excuse to see my brother."

He nodded and blinked once. He then reached out and keyed in engineering.

"I thought you were going to the bridge, sir," Bee said. Then she mentally kicked herself. Was that curiosity? She didn't care where he was going. She just wanted to get away from him.

"There were some slight problems on the bridge earlier that were linked to engineering," he said as the lift descended. "Mr. Scott asked for my input on the matter. I had not intended to go just now, but as we both have the same eventual destination of the bridge, it is only logical to accomplish that task now."

She nodded, but said nothing more. When they reached engineering, she bent to pick up the box, but she lost her grip and dropped it. On Commander Spock's foot. Very slowly she looked up, fearing she had really angered him.

"I am _so sorry_," she said quickly as she moved the box. "Is your foot alright?"

"Do not worry, ensign, I am unhurt. It was an accident." Then he reached out to help her up. She stared at his hand for a second before taking it. It was warm, just like hers, though she didn't know why she had expected it to be otherwise. He was strong, she could tell.

"Thanks," she said.

"Perhaps," he said after a moment, "I should carry this." He bent and easily picked up the box.

"You really don't have to," she said, but when he showed no sign of giving it back to her, she added, "Thank you."

"You are welcome."

She followed him down a couple of flights of stairs until they found Scotty cursing at a computer screen. He stopped abruptly when they approached, however.

"Commander Spock," he said, "Thanks for coming down here. What's that?" he added, indicating the box.

"Oh, that's mine," Bee said quickly, taking the box from him. "Thanks again, commander," she said to Spock.

He nodded. "Ensign, once you deliver that to your brother, would you please wait for me before going to the bridge?"

Wait for him? Stand in that lift alone with him for another five minutes? Not for all the pearls in the sea. Not for world peace.

"Actually, sir, my shift starts in a few minutes, and I don't want to be late. But if there's something you needed…" she said without thinking. Her voice trailed off.

He shook his head. "No, ensign, there is not. Of course you should not be late for your shift."

**-_-_-_**

**The Cafeteria**

**-_-_-_**

Due to a few odd shift changes, Isla and Bee found themselves temporarily on the same schedule. Deciding to take advantage of this, they had the first meal they'd had together in a while.

"So," Isla said after swallowing a bite of her sandwich, "how's your week been?"

"Not so good," Bee muttered. She wasn't hungry. She had only eaten a few bites of her sandwich before pushing the plate away from her.

"What happened?"

"I just haven't been getting much sleep. You know me – I can sleep through anything."

"Well, have you been having weird dreams or something? Maybe the change from living on Earth to living in space has you a little mixed up."

Bee didn't respond for a few moments. She _had_ been having strange dreams. Bright colors, dull greys, blinding whites, and smothering blacks. Shapes in negative focus. She didn't know what it meant. She wanted peace, control, not an overactive imagination.

"Yeah, I have," she finally said. "But don't ask me what they're about, because I have no idea."

"Maybe you should eat more," Isla suggested. "Going to sleep hungry could be causing weird subconscious activity."

"I haven't been eating any less than I usually do," Bee said. "And I know what going to bed hungry feels like and what it does to you. It doesn't give you Technicolor acid trips."

"Well then, are you open to any other suggestions?"

"That depends on whether you're being my friend or a doctor."

"Both. You don't look healthy, Bee. You're too thin. Your color is bad. Your mood is non-existent."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she muttered.

"It means that you're a bloody walking corpse," Isla snapped. "I know you, and something's off. I don't know whether it's the lack of sleep or your lack of appetite, but if you don't change something soon, I'll declare you unfit for duty until you get some help."

"'Help?'" Bee asked, her voice low. "You think I have a problem? Well, I don't. Alright, maybe being in space has messed with me some, but I'm not anorexic or manic or depressed or whatever the hell you think is wrong with me. If you want to help me, prescribed me something that'll make my mind bloody shut up."

Isla's eyes widened. "Are you saying that you're hearing voices?"

"No! Ugh, Isla, I'm just saying that for some reason I'm having nightmares that I can't explain. If you gave me something that could knock me unconscious for six or seven hours every twenty-four-hour period, maybe I wouldn't look as shitty as you say I do."

The worst part was that Isla looked thoroughly unconvinced that a few sleeping pills were going to solve Bee's problem. Not that Bee was any more convinced than her friend was, but she hated to be the focus of incessant worrying.

"Bee," Isla said, "I _do_ think you have a problem. I don't know what it is, but I'm going to find out. As of now, I declare you fit for only half-duty. Report to the sick bay after your next shift." She stood and left Bee sitting there stunned.

"Don't do that!" she called after he friend. The cafeteria was virtually empty, so only a couple of people were there to turn and stare. "Don't you bloody do that to me!"

**-_-_-_**

**A/N: MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA – Angst! And no, the McSnark thing is in no way a spin off of Grey's Anatomy.**


	10. The Color of Hate

**Co-authored with the effervescent SailingAwaySoftly.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, but we're working on that.**

**-_-_-_**

**Medical** **Bay**

**-_-_-_**

Isla sighed as she sifted through some paper work. For a month Bee had come after every last one of her shifts. There had been no progress. Isla believed her friend when she said she didn't know what was happening to her, but she also knew that something in Bee had decidedly changed since she had come aboard the _Enterprise_. She couldn't tell if Bee was depressed either, because she didn't naturally display her emotions very openly, so she had no idea if she were actually feeling anything or if she was just an empty shell.

_"Bee, you _have_ to tell me what's going on inside your head!"_

_"I don't know! It's just colors then darkness and shapes that don't make proper forms."_

_"There has to be more than that."_

_"Well, there isn't! I'm sleep-deprived, and instead of helping me, you're trying to psycho-analyze me."_

That's what had happened at their last meeting. And two days later, Bee was already late by ten minutes. Isla knew she wasn't going to show. She sighed and tried to concentrate on her paperwork, but she found after a few minutes she could not.

"Computer," she said as she walked over to a screen, "locate Ensign Beatrice Bell."

"Location: crews quarters."

"I'll be back in a bit, Mac," she called over her shoulder to McCoy.

"Lieutenant –" he started, but she was gone before he could properly admonish her.

**-_-_-_**

Isla wasn't sure why she was so anxious as she drew closer to their quarters, but something told her that Bee could be in trouble. Preparing for the worst, she took a deep breath as she went inside. The lights were off, so she was greeted with total darkness.

"Quarter lights," she whispered.

The dim light only really made the shadows less dark, but low and behold, Bee was sprawled out on her bed. At first Isla thought something might have been wrong with her, but upon closer inspection, she found that her friend was only sleeping. Well, that in and of itself was a miracle. Then she saw the wires. Stuck to Bee's temples were two little wires that were connected to a small data pad.

"_Mac_," Isla hissed. Extinguishing the lights, she left Bee to sleep and marched back to the medical bay. She accosted McCoy.

"You're monitoring Bee's dreams, and you didn't tell me?" she demanded.

He responded with a smirk. "Well, she got tired of your little talks and came to me. I said I wouldn't give her pills just yet, but I said after recording her brain activity during sleep, we might be able to figure out just what's going on with her."

"But you should have told me!"

"Patient/physician confidentiality," he replied, his voice more than a little sarcastic.

She sneered at him and stalked off. She was angry at him for being so damned annoying, but she realized that she was also angry at Bee for not telling her she had gone behind her back. She returned to her paperwork and forced herself to finish it. Two hours later, she sighed as she closed out the last data pad. Rubbing her tired eyes, she leaned back in her chair and sighed. Her shift was almost over, and she was exhausted.

"Hey," said someone behind her. She turned to face McCoy.

"What do you want?" she asked irritably. She had complete disregard for his rank.

"To apologize. I know you've been worried lately about her, and I shouldn't have spoken to you like that."

She eyed him suspiciously. He seemed sincere, but she was too tired to care.

"Thanks, Mac," she said. She didn't sound at all grateful. She stood to leave and pushed past him.

"Look, will you just listen to me for a minute?" he said. He grabbed her arm to stop her.

"What?" she snapped.

"I know she's your friend, but you've been going on about this the wrong way."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying I think she really doesn't know what's causing her nightmares."

"Dammit, neither do I, but what can be done?"

"By monitoring her brain activity, we can maybe see what sort of subconscious activity is causing it," he explained.

"Thanks, I figured that one out for myself, but how do we bloody _fix_ her?" Isla demanded.

McCoy paused for a moment. "We can't know that until we've figured out what's wrong with her."

Isla snorted. "Well, then we're screwed, aren't we?"

McCoy rolled his eyes. "You're just going to be stubborn, aren't you?"

**-_-_-_**

Bee awoke with a headache. The dreams had been even worse. The shapes were more defined this time, and she could almost tell what their forms were, but she was so tired she hardly cared. She trudged into the sick bay and presented Bones with her data pad.

"Let's have a look," he said. He frowned. "Interesting."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He didn't answer immediately. When he did finally speak, his voice sounded odd. "Your subconscious activity seems to be coming from the part of your brain dealing with learning. Memory. Recall."

"So…?"

"Ensign Bell, has anything extremely traumatic ever happened to you?" he asked seriously.

She blinked. "My father died when I was fourteen," she replied, "and my younger sister a couple of years after that. I mean, I suppose it was hard, but I got through it. I still think about them, but I'm not constantly weighed down by their deaths or anything."

This shocked him. She didn't seem unfeeling or callous, but she really didn't seem to be overly bothered. "Well," he managed to say, "is there anything in your memory or recall that could possibly cause you stress?"

She thought about it for a moment and then shook her head.

"Very well, I suppose you can go on shift now, if you feel like it."

**-_-_-_**

While she believed that she had been absolutely truthful when she had denied having anything in her past that would suddenly trigger her dreams, Bee wasn't so sure she was correct in her assessment. She had taken a psychology course at the Academy to fill her less than exciting schedule with something at least mildly interesting. The human psyche was vastly complicated. There were common and predictable patterns, yes, but it was still a difficult subject given that humans tended to have outbursts of defiance when it came to patterns. Sometimes there was no reason or logic to a decision. Serial killers were the general example to this. Their motives and triggers were often unknown and more often than naught never found out.

_What is wrong with me?_ she asked herself. _I'm comparing serial killers to my own situation. Bloody hell. No wonder I can't get any restful sleep._

Her shift was easy that day. There was no creative navigation involved, so she only had to sit at the seat, peruse readings, and push buttons when Kirk said so. This left her plenty of time to think. Kirk was in the midst of an engaging conversation with Sulu about who the hell knew, and most of the other crewmembers on bridge were wither conversing similarly or were absorbed at their stations.

Bee was a mathematician. When she had been younger, it would never have occurred to her to think of herself as such a thing, but since she had joined Star Fleet, she was unable to think of herself as anything else. Numbers had always fascinated her, most likely because of her stressful and unpredictable life in Liverpool, they gave her order and reason and predictability. She had never gone through the 'black and white phase' where she was sure of everything going on around her. The only way to gain stability was to quantify everything.

She was also not overly emotional. True, she still felt as acutely as the next human, but she didn't like showing it. It wasn't a matter of pride; it was a matter of weakness. In her harsh life, she couldn't let anything upset her. It wasn't about the appearance of strength; it was about the appearance of having control. And over the years, Bee had mastered her control. It was no longer an appearance; it was substance. Sure, it was easy to laugh and be at ease with Arlo and Isla, and she certainly wasn't overly stressed or wound way too tightly, but there was a line she had drawn for herself. She refused to cross it.

_That's probably where I should start,_ she thought. _When did I draw that line? Why did I draw it?_

She thought back. She had always been a reserved sort of person, but she had still cried when she scraped her knee as a child or squealed in delight when her father had run around with her on his shoulders. Her father. That's when it happened. Her father's death. She hadn't cried – at least, not when anyone else was around and even then she hadn't sobbed and wailed. They had been silent, private tears. And she hadn't cried since.

_Alright, so that's where the control complex kicked in._

Gwyneth had died not even two years after her father, and she had certainly been sad and had grieved more for her mother than anyone else, but Bee still hadn't cried. Since then, nothing so traumatic had happened to her. Getting caught? No, that wasn't too bad. She had joined Star Fleet, which had turned out to be her greatest decision yet.

Star Fleet. The Academy. Classes.

Physics. Applied Mathematics. Quantum Mechanics. These were the sort of courses she needed to be a navigations officer. But there had been others. She'd had electives to fill. Music. Human Psychology. Xenolingui–

_Vulcan,_ she thought. _I was top in that class. I hated that class. It was challenging, but I understood. But I hated it. The complexity, the order – that was beautiful. But I still hated it. I hated that professor. I knew the language better than he did. I understood it. I know how it works. But I hate it, hate it, hate it, _hate it.

Her hands were clenched into fists, her breath coming in sharp bursts. Her head had snapped up at this realization.

_Control,_ she thought. _That was completely unnecessary. __Control it. Control your temper._

She tried to slow her breathing, but her heart was pounding so furiously that she could not.

_Control._

"Ensign Bell, are you alright?" someone asked her.

Her neck snapped her head in the direction of the voice. It was Commander Spock, turned around in his chair looking at her. He blinked, and she registered that as surprise.

Surprise? Why was he surprised? Curiosity would be understandable, but surprise? Then she realized that she was glaring at him, focusing all the hate that was raging through her head at him through her eyes.

Now others were looking at her. Spock stood and approached her, as did Kirk.

"Ensign," Kirk said. She was still glaring at Spock. He took her shoulders and shook her hard. "Bell, what's the matter with you?" Kirk demanded.

She turned her head to look at him. "I–I–" she stammered, but she was unable to speak further. She was frozen in place, her hate paralyzing her. She couldn't stop it.

"Spock," said Kirk, "do you know what's happening to her?"

"I do not, Captain," he replied. "We should call Dr. McCoy."

Kirk was already on it. "Medical bay. Bones, I need you on the bridge. NOW."

Bee was screaming inside her head. Her dreams, the colors, were now waking. She slumped over onto the control board in front of her. She could hardly breath. A moment later there was a sting in her neck and then nothing.

-_-_-_

**Medical Bay**

**-_-_-_**

"Bones, what happened to her?" Kirk asked.

"I'm not entirely sure," his friend replied. He looked worried. "It looks like some sort of panic attack, but I don't know what triggered it. She hasn't been sleeping well for about a month; maybe she just snapped."

"She'll be alright though, won't she?"

"For now, at least. I gave her a sedative. She'll be awake in a few hours. I'll let you know then how she's doing."

Kirk nodded, thanked him, and left for the bridge. He had a few questions for Spock.

**-_-_-_**

**The Bridge**

**-_-_-_**

Spock had the computer show him Beatrice Bell's file. She was in the top of her class - the most promising navigations officer the Academy had seen in several years. Her brother had a similar academic file. However, there was one course that interested Spock. She had taken Vulcan for her xenolinguistics requirement.

She had achieved the highest marks of any cadet ever to take the course. Ever. She had even beaten Lieutenant Uhura, and that in and of itself was remarkable. Most cadets dreaded the course. It was one of the hardest languages offered, and even the top of the class usually never understood it fully. That was to be expected, however. Just as there were certain aspects of the English language he did not understand, there were aspects of his language that humans did not understand. It was a matter of cultural differences, not syntax.

He stood and came face to face with Kirk.

"Captain," he said, "I may have discovered something that could aid Dr. McCoy with Ensign Bell's case."

Kirk looked surprised. "Really? By all means then, but first do you think you could tell me why she hates you so much?"

Spock blinked once. "I am afraid I do not know. It is strange. We have not spoken much. She seemed calm and collected, I recall, when we first met, but I must admit that she has seemed different lately."

Kirk nodded. "I know. She looks terrible. You can tell she hasn't been sleeping well. What did you find out?"

"It is only a theory," Spock replied. "I would like to speak with her first to test it."

"Well, alright then." Kirk took his seat in his chair, and Spock left.

**-_-_-_**

**A/N: I know it's all confusing right now. It'll all come out, I promise.**


	11. Smackdown

**Co-authored with the effervescent SailingAwaySoftly.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, but we're working on that.**

**-_-_-_**

**Medical** **Bay **

**-_-_-_**

"Oh gods, Mac, what happened to her?" Isla asked as she came striding up to him.

"Some sort of panic attack. She's fine for now, but she'll probably have one hell of a headache when she wakes up," he replied. He studied Isla for a moment before returning his attention to his data pad. She was pale. Worried. You saw that a lot in the medical bay.

"She's really sick, isn't she?"

He shrugged. "I don't know."

Isla shuddered and turned away.

"Look, I don't have much of a bedside manner, alright?" he snapped. "I'm not going to beat around the bush with you. Your friend is sick, Knight, so that's why I'm ordering you to stay away from her."

She froze. "You're _ordering_ me? Just who do you think you are, Mac?"

His face was furious. "I'm your commanding officer!" he nearly shouted. "I've put up with your blatant disrespect because you're a damn good doctor, but you're forgetting your place." His hard expression softened a bit. "I know you're worried about her. I'll take care of her, I promise. You can still be with her, but I want you off her case."

"If Jim Kirk were in her place, would you let _me_ take over his case and make _you_ sit in a corner?" she demanded.

He narrowed his gaze. "No, I wouldn't," he said evenly. "Fine. You're not off her case. But we'll both be examining and monitoring her, and _any_ treatment you may recommend has to be authorized by me. Understood?"

Still tight-lipped, Isla nodded stubbornly.

"Hey, I'm meeting you half way, aren't I?" he said.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm tired. I'll go check on Bee and then go to bed. There's no point in losing sleep."

He glared for a moment at her retreating back and then shook his head.

**-_-_-_**

Spock had returned to his quarters for a short while to further contemplate his theory before questioning Ensign Bell. It was doubtful that she was even conscious at that point, so he was glad for the time to properly weight the pros and cons.

The human psyche was a very complex and delicate thing. By spending only a few minutes with her, Spock had been able to tell that Bell was vastly more complex than the average human being. As a scientist, he had been intrigued by her, and he had been slightly disappointed that she had not waited for him that day. While on the bridge, there was little opportunity to properly observe her, though he been able to pick up on her personality some even then. He had really only wanted the chance to speak with her more because she seemed interesting.

And now that he knew she had for some unknown reason mastered the Vulcan language, he was interested in how that had affected her. His language was so much more intricate than English. A great mastery of it could change the workings of a human's mind immensely. He suspected this was the cause of Bell's problems, and he anticipated questioning her.

**-_-_-_**

"Spock," said McCoy, looking up from his notes.

"Dr. McCoy, is Ensign Bell conscious at this time?" he asked.

Bones looked a little surprised. "As a matter of fact, Spock, she should be waking up any minute now."

Spock followed him silently as he strode over to one of the beds. Bell was already stirring slightly, and she groaned as consciousness seeped back into her. She blinked a couple of times before opening her eyes fully. She groaned again and put her hand to her forehead.

"Good to see you awake, kid. You've been out a few hours. And yeah, your headache should be pretty spectacular."

She grimaced. "Kid," she muttered. "I'm not a kid."

Bones chuckled. "So how do you feel?"

She blinked a few times and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I'm… um… actually, I'm really hungry. Starving, actually."

This pleased Bones. "Well, we'll see what we can do about that. I know I had to knock you out there with that sedative, but how was your sleep?"

She looked hesitant. "They're sharper. Completely clear, as a matter of fact."

He nodded. "That's good, isn't it?"

She shrugged. Then she caught sight of Spock standing at a polite distance, and her eyes widened, a reaction not lost on McCoy.

"I'll just see about getting you some food, alright?" he said, already walking towards the door.

**-_-_-_**

_The land was utterly barren. Rocky peaks jutted up a small distance away, but the ground she was standing on was completely flat. The air was thin despite the low altitude, and the heat was uncomfortable. Sweat prickled her skin and ran down the back of her neck. There was a column of white fire in the sky. It was miles away but still clearly visible. It powered into the ground, making the earth tremble. Clouds swirled menacingly above._

_She knew she was looking at total destruction. Above the atmosphere loomed the death-bringer, with its spikes and its weapons and its sheer size. The blazing pillar suddenly disappeared, but a few moments later, the real quakes began. The earth shook violently, and thunder cracked in the dark clouds. Now there was fire and far-off screams as the world became undone. And then there was nothing. All gone. All dead. All completely sucked into oblivion._

**-_-_-_**

At least Bee now knew what her dreams were about. She was seeing the destruction of Vulcan – it couldn't have been anything else.

This confused her. At the Academy, it wasn't enough to learn syntax to master the language. You had to understand the culture, the way of life. It was a state of being. All this she had understood. She knew what it meant.

But it made no sense for her to have these dreams. The Vulcan genocide had been terrible, yes, but she had certainly not been there and harbored no deep-seated grief because of it.

She inwardly cursed herself for not being able to think of an excuse quickly enough for Bones to stay. Spock was there, and since he had been trigger of her attack, she naturally recoiled from him. However, she realized that her skin no longer prickled around him, that there was no force inside her compelling her to run. Was her brain trying to tell her something?

"Ensign," he said in his usual cool voice, "I am sorry to disturb you; you have experienced quite an ordeal today."

She nodded. "I – I'm sorry for what happened on the bridge. You must have had no idea why I was being that way."

He took that as an invitation to approach. There was a chair beside her bed which he took. "Not at all. It was puzzling, yes, but I believe I may have an explanation to these experiences."

Her eyes widened. If Spock could tell her what was wrong with her, maybe she could tell her how to stop it.

"I read your file," he continued. "You have an impressive academic record."

"Thank you."

He inclined his head slightly. "I noticed that you demonstrated exceptional mastery in the Vulcan language. I am curious as to the… effects of this on your psyche."

"Wait a moment, commander," said Bee. "Are you suggesting that Vulcan is changing who I am?"

He shook his head. "Not your personality, no. However, your thought processes and your perception may be slightly altered. As I am sure you are aware, Vulcan is not merely a language of words."

"I know," she replied. "I just… I suppose I just didn't think about it. It sort of became a part of me, I guess."

He raised one slanted eyebrow. "That would be one way to put it, yes. Now, about your dreams – you said they were now more defined?"

She explained to him what she had just discovered about her dreams.

He reflected upon the information for a few moments before answering. "The destruction of Vulcan is by far the greatest disaster to our culture," he said. "If your brain is partially operating, so to speak, in Vulcan, then it is only logical that certain Vulcan nightmares should occasionally bother you. I believe now that you have fully realized this, the dreams should stop."

"But I was there! I wasn't an outsider observing it! I was on the planet! I was destroyed too!" She was now upset.

"I would not put too much store in these dreams," said Spock. "Your first person account is also logical. I would not worry, if I were you."

Oddly enough, Bee felt assured. He was calm and collected – the epitome of control and self-mastery. She admired him for that, and now she no longer felt discomforted by his presence.

"I believe Dr. McCoy will return soon with nourishment for you," he said as he stood to leave. "I trust you will recover soon. If you like, I could explain this incident to the other crewmembers, if that would give you reassurance. They too could most likely do with some explanation."

She nodded. Bones came in a moment later with a tray. Normally a nurse would have done that, but he had promised Isla. Spock nodded to the doctor and Bee and walked away.

"_Thank you,_" she called after him in his own language.

He paused only for a moment before turning back. "_You are welcome_."

**-_-_-_**

Arlo was furious. The ordeal with his sister had occurred hours before, but no one had bothered to tell him until just then, and that had only been because Bee was awake and asking for him. Not bothering to ask Scotty for permission to leave engineering, he made his way to the medical bay.

"Tell the lass I hope she's better soon!" Scotty called after his retreating form.

He stormed into the ward. "Isla, what the hell happened, and why wasn't I told about it?" he demanded to know.

"Arlo, calm down," she said coolly. "She's fine."

"That's not what I heard!" he nearly shouted.

Bones looked up from the data pad he was checking. "Ensign, if you don't lower your tone a few decibels, I'm going to throw you out," he warned.

Arlo scowled but did as he was told. He pushed past Isla and made his way to Bee's bed where he threw his arms around her neck.

"Gods, what happened?" he asked again.

She smiled at him. "Sit down, Arlo, and I'll tell you," she said calmly. She continued to explain what had happened to her. "I've just been missing some sleep," she finished. "I'll be fine."

"But why didn't you tell me?" he asked. "This has been going on for a month!"

"I know, and I'm sorry. We haven't really seen much of each other though, and I _was_ a little preoccupied."

He sighed. "You don't look good, Bee," he said.

"I know. I'm sorry. You're looking a lot better though."

It was true. Arlo had filled out nicely since joining Star Fleet. Once he realized that he could eat his fill whenever he was hungry, he ate like tomorrow would never come. On the other hand, Bee's appetite hadn't grown much, and she ate just enough to curb hunger. Now she realized that she couldn't continue to do that due to the hours she worked.

"Actually, I'm hungry now," she said after a moment.

Arlo grinned, and she smiled back. "I'll get you something," he said. He returned a few minutes later from the replicator with a tray of food. He had gotten her a turkey sandwich, water to drink, and chocolate pudding.

"Pudding?" she asked.

"Just eat it," he said with a smile.

They talked for a few minutes, but as soon as she was done eating, Bee began to feel drowsy.

"Isla says it's the sedative still in my system. It was pretty powerful," she explained.

"Well, just go to sleep then. I have to get back anyway. Scotty says hello."

"Tell him thanks for me."

"I will." Arlo stood and kissed her on the forehead before leaving. She was asleep before he had taken two steps.

**-_-_-_**

She didn't dream. There were no colors, no shapes. There was only peace.

When she awoke a few hours later, the lights on the ward had been dimmed. Someone – probably McCoy, had attached the wires to her temples again, but she didn't care. She still had a lot of sleep to catch up on, and she soon fell unconscious again to the sound of Bones and Isla's muffled voices coming from the end of the hall.

**-_-_-_**

"Her brain activity for sleep has been normal," Bones said. "I think her full mental meltdown snapped her out of it. Either that, or whatever the hell Spock said to her did."

Isla's head snapped up. "Commander Spock? What could he know about it?"

McCoy shrugged. "No idea. I'll get it out of him eventually, but for now I think we should just be thankful that she's returned to normal."

"Almost normal," Isla corrected. "Have you seen her increase in appetite? She's never eaten so much in her life."

"That'll probably wear off some, but let's hope that she'll be eating better from now on."

Isla ran her fingers through her barely shoulder length red hair and sighed.

"This has put you through a lot, hasn't it?" Bones asked her.

She nodded. "Gods, I don't know when I've ever been so tired. I've never worried about anyone so much in my life."

Bones sighed. "You're going to hate me for this, but I'm going to order you to take a week off to recover."

She sat straight up. "What? What for?"

"You've been stressed enough, _and_ you've been taking on extra shifts. I can't afford for you to run yourself into the ground."

"I'm fine, alright? All I need is a good night's sleep, and I'll be okay!"

"Not by my analysis. It's just a few days anyway."

She scowled at him. "You're bloody unbelievable."

McCoy smirked at her. "Commanding officer," he said, tapping the silver bands at his wrist.

"Mac, you are the most… _difficult_ human being I've ever met. And I've been sharing a room with _Bee_ for almost four years." She glared at him. "No, I won't take a week off."

By now, such a statement didn't faze him at all. Frustrated him, yes, but it was not unexpected. "It's an order. You will not set foot in this medical bay for the next week."

"Yeah?" said Isla as she stood. "I'd like to see you try."

"I _will_ have you physically removed, lieutenant," McCoy said evenly, standing to face her.

Isla was furious. He couldn't do that. Before she could stop herself, she drew back her hand and smacked him as hard as she could.

**-_-_-_**

**A/N: Are you all less confused now? It will progress, so don't worry about certain details that have been left vague.**


	12. Consequences

**Co-authored with the effervescent SailingAwaySoftly.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, but we're working on that.**

**-_-_-_**

**Medical** **Bay **

**-_-_-_**

McCoy was stunned that she had actually struck him. When finally gained his ability to speak, he exploded.

"You're done, Knight!" he shouted. He pressed a button on the comm. "I need security in the medical bay."

Isla was motionless. She seemed shocked by her own actions, and the two guards met no resistance from her when they came to take her to the detention deck. Bones just stood there and glared at her, chest heaving, as she was taken away.

He didn't know a time in his life when he had been angrier. He had actually wanted to hit her back, but he restrained himself with only the thought that she would now be forever out of his hair. He called Kirk.

"Jim, I need to talk to you now."

By the time the captain got to the medical bay, he had already found out what had happened to Isla.

"Bones, tell me exactly what happened," he said.

"Jim, she's been insubordinate from the start," McCoy said. "She has no respect for me as her commanding officer, and she flat out refused to obey direct orders without reason. And," he hesitated for a moment before continuing, "she hit me after arguing about my decision. I know you wanted her on the _Enterprise_, but as captain you can't ignore something like that."

Kirk shook his head. "Bones, don't tell me my duties as captain." It wasn't a warning, just a request. "And you're right – I won't allow it. I'll order her court martial immediately. Our next destination is the Vulcan colony, and we can hold the hearing at the Star Fleet outpost there."

McCoy nodded, still angry.

"It's a shame," Kirk said. "She's a good doctor."

"Yeah, well, she'll have no problem finding something to do back on Earth," Bones said irritably. "I've had it with her."

His friend nodded. "Did it hurt?"

"Did what hurt?"

"When she slapped you."

"I guess so. I was too shocked to register pain then, but it sure as hell stings now." Bones touched the angry red handprint on his face.

Kirk smiled faintly. "I'm sorry this happened," he said. "If you want, you can request another medical officer to take her place."

Bone shook his head. "No. I can run the sick bay just fine by myself."

**-_-_-_**

Isla had surprised herself by slapping McCoy. She certainly had never intended to do such a thing, but she hated taking his orders. Taking a week off was completely unnecessary. She numbly let the guards lead her to a detention cell, and she collapsed onto the small bed.

She had gone too far this time. She had never cared much for McCoy as her commanding officer, but even she knew there was a line you couldn't cross. There was no doubt in her mind that she would be discharged and sent shamefully back to Earth. She didn't worry about finding a job – everyone needed doctors – but she couldn't stand the thought of being thrown out.

Her head thudded against the wall as she leaned back. She knew she deserved to be in this cell. She still hated McCoy and his condescending attitude, but now she hated herself too, which made the former not worth it.

**-_-_-_**

"Where's Isla?" Bee asked the next morning after she had gotten dressed. She was being allowed to go back on shift.

McCoy didn't look at her. He didn't want to lie to her, but he still didn't want to be the one to tell her, since he had been the one who'd had her friend arrested. However, he knew he had to do it anyway. "She's being detained."

"What for?" Bee asked. She was shocked.

"Insubordination."

Bee lowered her eyes. "Oh. Well, yes, I suppose that makes sense… I can't believe she was that stupid though…" Her voice trailed off.

Bones felt a small pang of pity for Bee. He knew that she and Isla were best friends, but he also knew he could not have taken any other course of action. Of course, he didn't exactly _want_ to take any other course of action, but he now knew how Spock had probably felt a few years before when he had ordered Kirk to be marooned.

"She'll have a court martial," he said.

Bee nodded numbly. Once McCoy discharged her from the sick bay, she made her way to the detention deck to see her friend. The guard on duty was nice enough and gave her five minutes.

"You're an idiot," Bee said.

"Thanks." Isla was lying on her back and staring at the ceiling. "It's nice to have a friend who's brutally honest."

"Well, what do you want me to say? Poor you? I'm sorry you completely breached protocol?"

"Mac's just upset because I bitch-slapped him, and his pride's hurt," Isla said.

"You know they're going to ship you back to Earth, right? You're going to be dishonorably discharged, and that's going to show up on everything. Don't try to fool yourself, Isla. You gain _nothing_ from this."

"You think I like being arrested? I wish I hadn't done it. I wish I could just apologize and let that be the end of it. But if you came here to preach to me, save your breath. There's nothing you can say to me that I haven't already thought of."

"Why couldn't you have thought of it sooner then? You had to know this would happen. There's no way there wouldn't have been any consequences."

"This from the professional juvenile delinquent."

Bee glared at her. "That isn't fair, and it isn't the same, and you know that. I stole to eat. You just couldn't control your temper."

"Well we can't all have your control, can we?"

Bee wasn't going to let herself get so angry. She turned and left without a backwards glance at Isla. She took a lift to the bridge and relieved Chekov, glad to have something to concentrate on to keep her thoughts preoccupied.

"It's good to see you back, Bell," Kirk said a little while into her shift.

She turned. "Thank you, Captain," she replied, her voice calm. "It's good to be back."

Kirk smiled and struck up a conversation with Sulu. Relieved that he hadn't continued to speak to her, Bee worked a few calculations in silence. However, Kirk addressed her again a few minutes later.

"Ensign, we have a destination," he said. "We're headed to the Vulcan colony where we will remain for several days to assess the progress of the colony and to give any assistance if needed. There are also some matters requiring our attention at the Vulcan Star Fleet headquarters. All off-duty crewmembers are allowed shore leave. Please announce it and record it in the ship's log."

"Aye, Captain," she said. After her authorization code was cleared, she did as he asked. The atmosphere on the bridge had already brightened and several of the crewmembers buzzed with the exciting prospect of shore leave. Bee would have been excited about it too, but after what had happened with Isla, she couldn't bring herself to be particularly happy about it.

The rest of her shift went smoothly and quietly, just the usual calculating and occasional conversation with Sulu, whose shift changed about half-way through her own. The other pilot was not very friendly, so Bee contented herself with the controls in front of her.

Her relief came a few minutes late because he had overslept. Bee smiled to show that she wasn't bothered, and she stood to leave.

"Ensign, a word, please," someone called after her.

She stopped and turned. "Yes, commander?"

Spock walked with her towards the mess hall were she was headed to eat.

"I trust you have been sleeping better," he said.

"Yes, sir, thank you."

He inclined his head slightly. "We will be arriving at the colony in a few hours, and I think you will be able to better understand how your psyche has changed by a closer interaction with the Vulcan culture."

This surprised Bee a little, but she nodded. "Yes, sir." They arrived at the mess hall. "Is that all, commander?"

Spock paused a moment before speaking. "I understand that Dr. Knight is a close friend of yours," he said.

This surprised her even more. "Yes, sir."

"A court martial will be held at the Star Fleet headquarters on the colony," he continued. "As her friend, you may be required to attend."

"I'd already planned on attending, sir," she answered. "But why especially would I be required?"

"You may be asked to testify."

"I don't know what there is to testify to," Bee replied. "I'm sorry that she lost her temper and that it cost her commission, but I don't see how my testifying will change her sentence."

Spock's eyes narrowed slightly. This was not usual human behavior. Most humans would normally defend their friends, however wrong they may be. Bee noticed this.

"Commander, I don't want you to think that I'm not a good friend to her. But I can't support her actions. Given my own past, that may seem hypocritical. However, I can only hope for the best and that she'll be sincere in her apology."

Spock was honestly shocked by the level of clear-headedness the ensign was showing. He suspected that she really was upset about her friend's situation, but she was remarkably controlled. He was glad she had agreed to accompany him on the colony; it would give him the chance to further observe her. She was interesting, and that was a compliment coming from him.

"That is all, Ensign," he said.

"Yes, sir." She nodded and they parted.

Her mood brightened a bit at the prospect of actually being able to use something she had learned. She was also relieved that she was no longer a mental case when Spock so much as entered a room. He had deduced that the transformation of her psyche coupled with the presence of a Vulcan sent her into a sort of psychological overload. She herself came to realize that the nature of the language as well as her unusual mastery of it had brought about the change in the first place. She was still herself, but she somehow felt settled within her own skin.

Still, Isla's predicament overshadowed her mood, and she sat down dejectedly to eat. Her appetite had increased significantly, and her usually pale skin was now rosier, healthier. She felt better too, more energetic, and her head was clearer. Reflecting on all that had happened to her in the past few days, Bee realized she was tired and needed some sleep before attempting to ponder the situation more. She took her tray to the sanitation area and then returned to the quarters that she would now have to herself for the foreseeable future.

-_-_-_

**A/N: Sorry it took so long to update! This chapter did not come easily. Also, there has been an inquiry about Pon Farr as far as Spock is concerned. What do you guys think? Should we somehow include it in the plot or merely address the subject enough to get over the bump?**


	13. OutOfTownNess

**SORRY!**

**Out-of-town-ness prevented updating recently, but now we're back on schedule. Check back either tonight or tomorrow for an update.**

**Things to look forward too:**

**- Bee/Spock developments. (Any ideas for that ship's name? Bock? Spee?)**

**- A court martial for Isla. (Okay, seriously, it's not like we were gonna let her get away with that. So will you all please pull those twisted knickers out of your butts?)**

**- Possible Isla/McCoy developments. (Don't get excited. Nothing hardcore.)**

**- AND the FINAL scene between Spock and Uhura. *DRAMATIC MUSIC***

**P.S. – Pon Farr is still up for debate. So far, the vote is in favor, though a few of you are against it. Please bear in mind that the major plot of this story is already established, and we aren't making this up as we go. During initial development, allowances were made for the possibility of Pon Farr, so the plot can work with or without it. Whether or not it will make the cut is up to your replies for the next couple of chapters. After that, don't whine about whatever the decision is.**

**Thanks!**


	14. Impressed

**Co-authored with the effervescent SailingAwaySoftly.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, but we're working on that.**

**-_-_-_**

**The Bridge**

**-_-_-_**

"Lieutenant, open a frequency to the Vulcan command center," Kirk ordered the communications officer on duty.

"Aye, Captain," the young man replied. A few moments later, he said, "Frequency open, sir. Switching to speaker."

"This is Captain James Kirk of the _U.S.S. Enterprise_," said Kirk. "Requesting permission to engage and maintain standard orbit for the next seven solar days."

"Permission granted," replied a low, calm voice. "Your crew will also be permitted shore leave on Star Fleet headquarters grounds."

"Thank you."

There was a short pause before the voice continued. "Is Commander Spock there?"

"I am here," he replied.

"Spock, your father, Sarek, wishes to speak with you as soon as you beam to the colony's surface. Captain Kirk, please note that the starship _U.S.S. Indefatigable_ is also in orbit around the planet."

"Duly noted. Kirk out." He stood and walked around the room. "Well, gentlemen, and, um, Bee," he added catching sight of her, "You are all permitted off-duty shore leave, so enjoy it while it lasts. Mr. Spock, Ensign Bell – come with me. We'll be the official landing party."

Kirk looked pleased to death with himself for some reason. Bee shot a confused sideways glance at Spock, who merely raised one sharp eyebrow. They followed their captain to the transporter room and beamed to the Star Fleet headquarters on the planet's surface. Even in the buildings which had been made environment-friendly for humans, Bee could still notice the thinness in the air. The colony had been settled on a planet similar to that of Vulcan in climate.

As she followed the two officers around in the building, she saw Isla being escorted by two guards. She was no longer in uniform and she had a small bag slung over her back, which probably contained a few of her personal items. She caught Bee's eye as they passed, but the ensign quickly averted her gaze. This small exchange was not lost on Spock.

"Her court martial will take place in exactly two hours," he informed Bee.

Her pace faltered for a step, but she recovered after a moment. "That soon?" she asked.

He nodded. "There is no reason to prolong it, and she will be sent back to Earth on the _Indefatigable_. That ship will leave the colony tomorrow."

Bee nodded to show she had heard him, but she did not otherwise respond. It was so soon, and she hadn't made up with her friend. Still, she said nothing and quietly followed her commanding officers. Kirk almost immediately met up with the captain of the _Indy_, but Spock only stopped to greet the man before continuing on. Bee did the same. She did not ask where they were going, but before they could get much further, someone called her name.

"Bee! Hey, Bee!"

She turned and saw a tall, sandy-haired young man approaching her. She smiled. "Etienne!" she said. They embraced quickly. "I'd forgotten that you were assigned to the _Indy_," she added.

He grinned. "It's been wonderful! Sarah's busy with Adele, but I'll tell her I saw you. So, how about you? Do you like the _Enterprise_?"

She smiled a little. "Yes. Arlo's immensely pleased with himself. He should be down here soon." Then she remembered Spock. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm being rude." Bee turned to introduce Etienne to Spock, but her commander was gone. "Oh no," she said. "Where's he gone?"

"He didn't stop walking when I called to you," Etienne said.

"Oh." Bee was a little surprised. Spock had not seemed distracted or particularly focused to the exclusion of all else. He was also not the sort to forget someone was with him. "Well, I'll talk to you later, but I really should go find him."

"Alright. Tell Arlo I said hello."

Assuring him that she would, Bee said goodbye and quickly went off in search of Spock. It turned out that he hadn't gone very far, but when Bee saw that he was talking with an older Vulcan – presumably his father – she hesitated and did not approach immediately. However, he caught sight of her and called her over.

"Ensign Bell," he said in English, "this is my father, Sarek. Father, this is Ensign Beatrice Bell."

"It's an honor to meet you, sir," she said to Sarek.

"And you," he replied. She thought that Spock sounded rather like him. "My son holds you in high regard."

Bee was genuinely surprised at this. She knew that Vulcans didn't lie, and for Spock to say such a thing to anyone, especially his father, was no small matter. Unsure of what to say, she looked at Spock.

"Really?"

He raised an eyebrow. "This surprises you?" he asked.

Sarek looked between the two of them. "I understand that you speak Vulcan," he said to Bee.

"_Yes_," she responded accordingly in Vulcan. "_I am out of practice, however._"

Sarek nodded. "_Yes, language is one thing in theory, but quite another in practice._ _However, your speech is remarkably flawless._"

Although his face was as straight as ever, Spock's eyes gleamed with unmistakable interest at the exchange between the ensign and his father. If anything, Bee thought he looked almost pleased, but as always, it was hard to tell.

"Father," he said in English, "Ensign Bell and I must go now, but I will return in a few hours."

"Of course."

Bee didn't quite know what to expect after that. Vulcans did not embrace or shake hands, so how did a father and son part? Her question was answered when both inclined their heads slightly before turning away. So that was a Vulcan thing, not a Spock thing. She followed after him, slightly confused.

"Where are we going?" she asked him, trying to match his longer stride.

He did not reply.

"Commander?" she asked.

He stopped suddenly. "I am sorry," he said after a moment. "I was… thinking."

"Oh. Sorry."

"Do not apologize. Although I cannot help but wonder why you were surprised that I think highly of you," he said. Again his face was smooth and calm, but his eyes were questioning.

She blinked twice. "Oh," she said simply, shrugging.

"I told you before that your record was impressive," he reminded her.

"Yes, but if you don't mind me saying so, that's rather a statement of fact than an opinion," she countered.

Spock looked almost surprised that she had responded in that way. He raised one eyebrow. "All the same," he said evenly, "I am truly impressed."

"Thank you, commander," she answered.

"_Now,_" he continued in Vulcan, "_you asked where we are going. We must assess the growth of the colony and report its progress and any assistance that Star Fleet may be able to give._"

She nodded. "_Will we be going to the court martial?_" she asked as they set off.

He did not look back at her. "Yes."

**-_-_-_**

Arlo beamed down to the planet by himself and set off to walking around the base. He stopped to speak with a few of his fellow crewmembers, but he was basically wandering aimlessly. However, it was not long before he ran into Etienne, and he was ecstatic to see his friend again.

"Etienne!" he said, a huge grin on his face. "How've you been? How's Sarah and Adele?"

The two men shook hands, gripping each other's arm tightly for a moment before letting go.

"They are fine," he answered, matching Arlo's smile. "Adele's been a little sick lately, but she is better now. She and Sarah are still on the ship. We leave tomorrow, but I don't think they will be able to come down to the planet before then."

"That's too bad," said Arlo. "Bee's around here somewhere, I think."

"Yes, I saw her with the first officer."

"Spock? What's she doing with him?"

Etienne shrugged. "They met briefly with another Vulcan, but I don't know where they went from there. I saw Isla too, but with the court martial, I wasn't able to speak with her. She'll be on board the _Indy_ tomorrow though."

Arlo's jaw dropped. "_What?_ What court martial?"

"You did not know? She was blatantly insubordinate to one of her commanding officers is what I heard," Etienne replied. "She'll be discharged and sent back to Earth."

"Well, this is the first I've heard of it." Arlo shook his head. "Look, I hope I'll see you later, but I need to find Bee."

Etienne nodded. "Of course. It was great to see you again."

Arlo smiled and set off in search of his sister. He finally tracked her down in an office type area further in the base with Spock and a few other humans and Vulcans. The were standing around a table looking at different screens of numbers and charts. She and Spock were discussing something, while the rest of the group seemed to be making some sort of plan. One human stood off to the side frowning slightly at a chart.

He tapped on the glass. They all glanced up but quickly went back to whatever they were doing once he caught Bee's eyes. She looked as though she were resisting the urge to roll her eyes and said something quickly to Spock before leaving the room.

"Hey. What's up?" she asked him.

"What are you doing in there?" he asked, but he stopped her before she could answer. "Never mind. That's not why I came here. Did you know that Isla's being court martialed?!"

"Yes," she replied calmly. "In about an hour, in fact."

"Wait, you _knew_?"

"I've known since she was arrested," Bee answered.

"And you're not upset?!"

Her expression darkened ever so slightly. "Of course I am. But there's no changing what happened. She's going to be discharged, and there's nothing I can do about it."

"But why didn't you tell me?"

"I just never got the chance to see you! You live down in your own little world with Scotty and the ship. I meant to tell you before now, but I just didn't have time. In case you were wondering, I'm fine now, by the way. No relapses. But I've still been recovering, so my mind's been a bit full at the moment."

Arlo was angry now. "Bee, I don't even know what the hell it is you're supposed to be recovering from. You didn't tell me anything!"

She stared right back at him. "Well, I'm fine now, so don't worry. I'm busy at the moment, but I'll talk to you later."

"Yeah, if I actually see you later."

She did roll her eyes this time. "Arlo, don't be such a baby."

He gave her one final glare before turning and stalking off.

Bee took a deep breath and returned to her previous task. Spock looked up.

"What happened?" he asked.

She took another breath to keep herself calm and controlled. "He's just upset because he didn't know about Isla until just now. We haven't… argued about anything for a while. Anyway…" She pointedly returned her attention to the charts.

**-_-_-_**

Isla could have honestly died. Standing in the middle of that hall, facing those Star Fleet officers, Kirk, McCoy, and Spock among them, she wanted to crawl away and die. Every appropriate feeling for the situation – embarrassment, shame, guilt, regret – came crashing down on her at once.

Bee and Arlo were with Etienne sitting somewhere behind her. There were not very many onlookers to the proceedings, which she was grateful for. The fewer witnesses to her shame, the better. Her stomach twisted as she listened to Kirk's voice. As the captain, he had to lead the court martial. His voice sounded almost apologetic, which was worse.

"… Due to proven charges of blatant and willful insubordination, I hereby revoke your officer's commission, and you are discharged without honor from Star Fleet. You will return to Earth immediately. I declare this issue to be resolved and adjourn this court martial."

Isla was numb. She couldn't believe she had been so stupid. As they filed out, each of the officers looked at her. She received disapproving looks from the officers she did not know. Spock's expression was unreadable as always, but God only knew what _he_ thought of her actions. Maybe his new association with Bee had inclined him to not think too harshly of her, but Isla knew this to be mere wishful thinking. Kirk's glance was brief but truly sorry, and though she did not want it, she did not fault him for his pity.

McCoy, as her accuser, was the last to leave. She couldn't hate him now, because it had all been her own damn fault. She met his gaze and hoped that he could at least see that she was sincere in her regret. To her surprise, he shuddered slightly before turning away and following the others.

She turned and caught Bee's eyes. She saw her friend mouth, "I'm sorry." Isla sighed and turned away as a guard led her out. However, a moment later, there was someone at her elbow.

"I'll take her," someone said. She turned to see Etienne there. "She'll be fine with me."

The guard looked hesitant, but Etienne was a lieutenant and crewmember of the _Indefatigable_, so he left Isla with him.

"Etienne," she said, giving him a quick hug, "what are you doing?"

He smiled sadly. "You've been suffered enough already. I'll take you up to the ship myself. You'll still most likely have to stay in the brig, but it won't be too bad, I promise."

"Thanks, Etienne."

**-_-_-_**

**A/N: Sorry it's taken so long! We're back to regular updating now, as this chapter was particularly difficult to write. Review, please!**


	15. Endangered

**Co-authored with the effervescent SailingAwaySoftly.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, but we're working on that.**

-_-_-_

"Father," Spock said as he approached his father.

Sarek turned and greeted his son. "Spock, I am glad to see you."

"The colony has been making steady progress," he said, coming to stand beside the older Vulcan, his hands clasped behind his back. "If this rate continues, the population will be stable and fully functioning in another ten years."

"What number will it have grown to?" Sarek asked.

"The current population is 21,568," he replied. "By steady exponential increase, I estimate that it will be at approximately 85,000 in ten years."

"That is good news."

"We will still be an endangered species, Father."

"By the time your children are fully matured, Spock, we will not be."

"I do not anticipate producing any offspring," he stated simply.

Sarek considered his son for a moment before speaking. They were standing on a sort of terrace, not unlike the one that had been at their home on Vulcan. It was sunset, making the red sands even redder on the new planet. There was so much of Amanda in Spock, more than he knew his son realized. Spock was good at hiding it, however.

"Why do you think that?" he asked finally.

"I chose to stay on the _Enterprise_ to be with Nyota instead of helping rebuild our race. But it has ended between us. I thought that perhaps I would not be able to return to the colony, but now I feel as though I am unable to do that. As I am half-human, it is unlikely that I will be seen as an asset to our people."

"Spock, I believe you are most valuable to Vulcan on your starship," Sarek replied. "Had you not been there, our race would be all but extinct. You have explained to me why you have terminated your relationship with Lieutenant Uhura. I am sorry. I had thought that perhaps because you are half-human, it would have been easier…"

"It had nothing to do with that," Spock said quickly. "I could not go against my very nature. She wanted me to be something I was not."

"That is unfortunate." Sarek gazed over the ever-increasing shadows across the land. "Ensign Bell seemed interesting."

Spock nodded. "She is very intriguing."

Sarek gave his son a quick side glance. "She is quite unlike any human I have ever met. Her speech was flawless. Amazing, really. She is very similar to you, I think."

"Yes, I suppose she is," Spock replied. "She is strange for a human. She works very hard to control her emotions."

"She does not wish to appear weak."

"Yes. She is very careful to suppress her emotional responses."

"She seems to look to you for guidance."

"I was able to help her understand what her mind was going through. She went through a… transformation, so to speak. Her mind seems to be somewhat…" He struggled to find the right word. Finally, he had to invent one. "Vulcanized."

Sarek raised an eyebrow. "That is very singular." He looked at his son. "I must return now, and I think you must return to your ship. However, before I go, I must tell you of my intentions to bind myself to another."

Spock nodded. "To T'Lin?"

"Yes. We may not be able to help repopulate our race, but we will assist in everyway we can to ensure our survival." He raised his hand in the Vulcan salute.

Spock matched his gesture. "Live long and prosper, Father."

-_-_-_

The _Indefatigable_ left orbit and set a course for Earth early that morning. Bee didn't even get a chance to say good-bye to Isla. Arlo was still angry at her, and he had no problem with showing it.

"Arlo, will you just _listen_ to me for a minute?" she asked him. He was doing a routine check on the dilithium chambers.

"You know what? Nobody _bothers_ to tell me anything until after the fact. My sister goes half-crazy and I don't even know why, but I have to find out from Scotty three days after the fact. Isla smacks a commanding officer and is sent to a court martial. I don't find out until the day of from _Etienne_, who isn't even _on_ the _Enterprise_."

"Oh, stop feeling sorry for yourself. No one's out to get you or to keep secrets from you. There is no conspiracy."

"Oh, yeah? Well, I would have thought that I would have been the first person you called, not Commander Spock."

"Well, _that's_ mature of you. Honestly, you sound almost jealous. And I didn't ask for him. He came to me. Believe me, it was that last thing I expected. And you were busy working, and it turned out that I was fine!"

Arlo shook his head. "Bee, you're different. You've changed, and I don't know how, but I know that whatever it is has to do with Spock."

Bee didn't quite know how to respond. She couldn't possibly explain what had happened to her. He wouldn't understand.

"Look, you've never been the friendliest person on the planet. You're too analytical for that. But seriously, what's going on with Spock? He's singled you out."

"You're just paranoid."

"No, I think I'm observant."

"Well, that's a first."

"You're avoiding the question."

"Stop it. Just stop it, Arlo. You're being such a child. I'm not holding your hand anymore. You have your job, and I have mine."

"So you think I'm the little kid who needs his nose wiped?"

"Maybe I wouldn't have to if you'd stop acting like it."

"Alright, do you have to do that?" he asked accusingly.

"Do _what_?" she snapped.

"Just stand there all calm like we're not having an argument. Aren't you frustrated?"

"Infinitely. I'm just trying to keep myself from wringing your neck."

"Oh, thanks," he said sarcastically. "Glad to hear you're keeping yourself in check."

Bee wanted to smack him. Hard. Instead, she turned on her heel and made her way to the lift so she could return to the bridge. She wasn't going to stand there and listen to his childish tirade. He wouldn't understand, and she wasn't about to even try to explain. She didn't even have Isla to talk to now. Maybe Spock could help her, but Arlo was already angry with her about him for some unknown reason. She decided that she needed to sleep on it.

-_-_-_

"Bones, can I talk to you for a minute?" Kirk asked his friend.

"Yeah, sure, Jim. What do you need?" McCoy asked as he checked syringes and vials.

"Are you alright?"

Bones looked up. "Yeah. Why?"

"You've just seemed a little off since the hearing."

McCoy sighed. "Dammit, Jim, she was just standing there looking so damn sorry and pathetic. I really don't think she meant to do it."

"Do you wish you hadn't charged her?"

"No, it's just… Well, she's just a damn good doctor, and I wish she hadn't been so stupid."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. She'll be fine though."

"Ugh, she had that _look_, you know? The one you had on your poor little face when that commander told you you'd been grounded, and I just felt so bad for you that I _had_ to sneak you on board."

"If the whole crisis with Vulcan and the Romulans hadn't happened, what would we have done? I mean, you'd gotten me on the ship, hurrah, but where would we have gone from there?"

"I dunno. Appealed to Pike's better nature and made sure you kept well away from Spock."

Kirk laughed. "Boy, that wouldn't have been pretty."

"Jim, it _wasn't_ pretty."

"Thanks, by the way, for rushing to my rescue when he was crushing my windpipe."

Bones shook his head. "And just how the hell was I suppose to stop him? I don't currently have anything made up on the ship that could knock him out. And I wasn't about to get myself thrown across the room. And you know what else, Jim? I really don't think he would have heard us if everyone on that deck had been screaming and pulling at him."

"Good thing his father got through to him."

"That's for sure."

"Yeah, or you'd all be screwed."

"Well, _you'd_ be dead."

"Exactly my point."

-_-_-_

Later on the bridge, Kirk was attempting to lighten the moods of the crewmembers who hadn't been able to take advantage of shore leave yet. He was mildly successful, except that Bee still seemed to be annoyed about something. Spock seemed a little off too, but Kirk said nothing and minded his own business for once.

Then the communications officer made a report.

"Captain, we're receiving a distress signal from the _U.S.S. Indefatigable_. They're being attacked, sir. By Klingons."

-_-_-_

**A/N: Bah, sorry updates are being a bit slow! The action's about to pick up a bit, so please leave lots of lovely reviews!**


	16. The End of the Indefatigable Indy

**Co-authored with the effervescent SailingAwaySoftly.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, but we're working on that.**

-_-_-_

"All decks, this is the captain speaking – this is a red alert. Everyone to your battle stations," Kirk said into the comm. "Sulu – maximum warp."

"Aye, captain."

The key to successfully enduring a crisis was to keep a clear head. So while everyone _was_ rushing to get the ship ready for a possibly hostile encounter, no uncontrolled chaos kept anyone from doing their job. Kirk would normally have been pleased that his crew was working so efficiently, but the circumstances did not allow for it.

The Federation tried to use diplomacy over force whenever possible, especially where Klingons were involved, but the unwarranted attack of a Federation starship did not call for pointless negotiations. The _Enterprise_ was going to have to go in guns blazing.

The _Indy_ hadn't gone very far before it was attacked. The fact that the Klingons were this far into Federation space was alarming.

"Have we been able to establish any further contact with the _Indy_?" he asked.

"Negative, captain," Spock replied. "Their communications seem to have been cut off."

Kirk swore.

-_-_-_

Kirk may have pulled out all the stops in anticipation of meeting the Klingons, but they arrived at the _Indy_ just in time to see the Klingon War Bird cloak and warp away. The _Indefatigable_ was in bad shape. It had suffered a merciless attack, and several of the decks had been blown away. A lot of the crew would be dead.

"Mr. Spock," Kirk said in as strong a voice as he could, "we will beam a rescue party over to the _Indy_ and send as many shuttlecraft as needed to retrieve any of the surviving crew."

"Yes, captain."

Kirk contacted Engineering. "Scotty, we need two engineers to beam over."

"Aye, captain."

He called the sick bay next. "Bones, I need you for the rescue party."

"I'm on my way, Jim."

"Mr. Sulu, you have the con."

"Aye, captain."

"Bell, take over Spock's station and call Chekov to take yours."

"Aye, captain."

-_-_-_

Kirk and Spock met the rest of the rescue party in the transporter room. Scotty was there to beam them over and had brought Ensigns Bell and Black with him. McCoy was there with his medical kit and tricorder.

"Scotty, we'll contact you and tell you how many shuttlecraft are coming."

"Aye, captain."

"Energize."

-_-_-_

The _Indy_ was completely a wreck. Its transporter room was barely functional. There were screams and cries of pain echoed from not far away, and they immediately set off. Kirk almost instantly came across a young crewmember, injured but lucid.

"I'm Captain James Kirk of the _U.S.S. Enterprise_," he said as Bones started to scan the young man.

"Ensign George Roberts," the man replied. His voice sounded extremely pained. "They came out of nowhere and attacked us. I – I think they destroyed the bridge, because after the ten minutes communication was cut off with it, and then everyone panicked be-because the captain wasn't giving any more orders, and – Christ, it _hurts_," he groaned.

"I know, I'm going to give you something for the pain," Bones said as he injected the man with a hypospray. "Can you stand, ensign?"

Roberts nodded and was helped painfully to his feet.

"Alright," said Kirk, "we'll split up and meet back at whatever's left of the shuttle hangar. Bones, you come with me, Bell and Black go together, and – shit, we should've brought one more. Okay, Spock, _you_ come with me, and Bones, you take Roberts with you and help whoever you can along the way."

They split up in different directions, shouting at everyone who was still able to walk to get to the shuttle hangar.

Arlo and Black didn't come across very many people, but Black almost tripped over a body about halfway down the corridor. He flung out his arm to catch himself, and sliced his hand on a jagged piece of metal.

"Shit, would you look at this?" He held out his extremely bloody hand for Arlo to see. He tore off a piece of his shirt to wrap around it. Then they looked at the body. Arlo was almost sick.

"Sarah, oh no, Sarah, come on, please don't be dead." He kneeled beside her and checked her pulse. Nothing.

"You knew her?"

"She was my roommate's wife. _Oh shit,_ they have a kid somewhere on this ship. We have to find her."

"Well, we'll need to split up more. I'll go back this way, and you go that way."

"Alright. See you back at the hangar."

-_-_-_

Kirk and Spock ran into quite a few people as they made their way through the remains of the ship. It was hard to see at some times because of the smoke, and the occasional fire didn't help either.

Unfortunately, they came across more dead crewmembers than live ones. A few were so badly injured that they were literally dying just as Kirk and Spock would come to them. They sent what live crewmembers they found to the shuttle hangar.

"– Come on, stay with me. I know it hurts, I can make the pain stop, but – DAMMIT, keep your eyes open!"

Kirk recognized the voice.

"Knight?" he asked.

"Captain?"

Isla was kneeling beside a man who had some sort of abdominal injury and was trying to help him. She had somehow gotten hold of a tricorder and a few other medical supplies, but the young man didn't look so good.

"What happened?"

"How the hell should I know? I was in a detention cell. Next thing I know, half the ship's been blown away, and everyone's running around with their heads cut off. I know I've been discharged, but I think most of the medical staff is dead, so I've just been trying to help whoever I can."

She didn't sound angry or sarcastic at all though. She sounded frustrated. And worried. And scared. She was afraid for this man's life.

"You know him?" Kirk asked gently.

"We were at the Academy together. His wife – she and their daughter are on this ship somewhere…"

"C-crews'… quarters…" the man stammered.

"Shhh, don't try to speak, Etienne. We're going to get them, alright? Just you concentrate on staying conscious."

"Spock, I'll help her take him to the hangar," said Kirk. "You keep going."

"Yes, captain."

-_-_-_

Arlo was pretty sure he was somewhere in the crew's quarters from the layout of the room. He only kept coming across dead bodies, and he was beginning to feel sick to his stomach. Then he heard it.

It was very quiet – just a soft whimpering. But it sounded like a child. Maybe because of her small size, she had been able to hide under something. He just hoped now that she wasn't trapped.

"Adele?" he called out. "Adele, where are you?"

"_Aidez-moi_!" he heard her little voice cry out. She switched to English. "Help me!"

"I'm coming! Don't worry, I'll get you out of here."

When he got to her a few yards away, she fortunately wasn't trapped. She was just scared for her life. She was huddled in a corner, crying her little eyes out.

"Shhh, it's okay, it'll be alright. I've got you." He gently picked her up. She put her arms around his neck and continued her sobbing into his shoulder.

He continued to console her as he made his way back to the hangar. He warned what people he could, but so much of the crew was dead. After a few minutes, he ran into Spock.

"Ensign, is this the child?" he asked.

"You're looking for her too, commander?"

Spock nodded. "Her father is badly injured."

"Etienne's alive? Oh, but Sarah's dead though." Adele gave a particularly loud wail. "Most of the crew I've seen is dead. But I haven't seen many officers other than lieutenants."

Spock opened his mouth to reply, but his communicator beeped. "Spock here," he answered.

"Commander, it's Ensign Black. I went to see what was left of Engineering. A couple of engineers are still alive, but they're badly injured, and the chief engineer is dead. And another thing, the dilithium chambers have been compromised, and I estimate that we have about fifteen minutes before the ship explodes."

Spock relayed this message to Arlo, who swore.

"That gives us about ten minutes to get out of here," said Arlo.

Spock nodded. He and Arlo began to run in the direction of the hangar, shouting a last warning to anyone who may have still been alive. As they neared their destination, Spock stopped abruptly as someone called out his name. It wasn't very loud, and he wasn't sure if he had heard it.

"Commander, we have to go," Arlo warned.

Spock ignored him and looked around for the source of the voice.

"Spock," someone said faintly.

A few feet away from him, partially covered by debris, was Lieutenant Uhura.

He immediately pushed the scraps of metal away from her broken body. She was hurt badly. There was a gash on her forehead, and a jagged piece of metal was imbedded in her side. Spock tested it to see if he could remove it, but she cried out suddenly.

"Don't, Spock, it's too late," she said weakly.

"Nyota, you are going to live," he said. He sounded as though he were trying to convince himself rather than reassure her.

"No, I'm not." She reached up and touched his face. "Goodbye, Spock."

He then did the most impulsive thing he had ever done in his life. He instinctively bent his head and kissed her, but she had already breathed her last.

Spock felt very much as though he wanted to throw something, to hit something. He had never wanted to know pain like this ever again. He couldn't just leave her body there, but the ship was going to explode any minute. He didn't move.

"Commander, we have to go! You have to leave her!" Arlo shouted. He reached down and pulled on his officer's arm. Spock let him. He got numbly to his feet and ran after the ensign.

Kirk was waiting for them in the hangar. There were only two shuttlecraft. They had found maybe twenty survivors at most.

"Come on, we have to go! Where's Black? He's supposed to be on his way back!" Kirk shouted.

Arlo flipped open his communicator. "Tom, where are you?" he yelled.

"Just go, Arlo! Get yourselves out! I was stupid and tried to help one of the engineers back, and I fell and hurt myself."

"I'll call Scotty to beam you back!" said Arlo as he jumped into the shuttlecraft.

"I don't think there's going to be any time, Bell."

"Scotty'll get you out!"

"Look, Arlo, tell Tracey –"

"Whatever you have to tell Tracey, you can tell her yourself!"

"Arlo –" But he was suddenly cut off.

"Tom?!" Arlo swore and threw his communicator against the wall. A few people sitting around him looked anxious. Adele started crying again.

"I'm sorry, Arlo," said someone.

He turned. "Isla? What are you doing here?"

"Trying to keep Etienne alive." She indicated his friend.

"Gods, Etienne! Look, Adele, it's your dad!"

Etienne was stretched out on the floor. He groaned as Isla tried to help him. He was deathly pale and looked as though he had lost a lot of blood. Arlo set Adele down on the floor and let her go to her father. He tried to speak, but it was difficult for him. He kissed Adele and then motioned for Arlo to come over. Isla swore.

"Dammit, I'm losing him!"

"Etienne, you have to stay alive for Adele!" Arlo said to his friend.

Etienne groaned again. He was barely able to breathe. "_Ma petite chèrie! Elle ne permettez pas de nous oublier. Vous devez lui dire que nous l'avons aimée._" He coughed, and his eyes rolled back into his head.

"Wait, Etienne, what did you say? Don't you die too!"

But he was already dead. Adele was sobbing hard now, and Arlo wanted to scream. Three friends dead in the space of twenty minutes.

"But what did he say?" he asked.

Adele was physically unable to respond, and he doubted she knew. She was only three years old.

"He said, 'My little darling! Do not let her forget us. You must tell her we loved her,'" Spock replied, his voice low.

Arlo swallowed hard. "Thank you. I'm sorry, commander."

Spock nodded and sighed. He closed his eyes. He had loved Nyota once. He still cared for her now. Despite their differences, she was still immensely important to him, and he felt the same pain he felt when his mother had died. It wasn't on the same catastrophic scale, but he knew that part of it was guilt, just as it had been before.

Spock had adored his mother. He never showed it and never said it, but he felt it deeply. His greatest regret was that he had never told his mother that he loved her. And now he had made that mistake twice.

-_-_-_

**A/N: Sorry updates are taking so long! We've been distracted by the writing of future chapters. Seriously, we have five future chapters already written. We just couldn't let the inspiration fade away. REVIEW!**


	17. A Waste

**Co-authored with the effervescent SailingAwaySoftly.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, but we're working on that.**

-_-_-_

Kirk was ready to explode. So many lives. He concentrated on flying the shuttlecraft back to the _Enterprise_ but he was finding his anger hard to control.

"It's such a waste," he muttered. "It's such a fucking _waste_, and for what? A few bastard Klingons had their pride hurt?"

"Jim, you can't beat yourself up over this. There was no way we could have prevented this. You did your job and saved who could be saved," said Bones. He had Roberts stable and was now tending to others on the shuttlecraft.

The flight back to the _Enterprise_ wasn't long, but Kirk had ordered his ship to maintain a safe distance because of the impending explosion of the _Indy_. A few seconds later, and the remains of the starship blew to kingdom come.

Kirk swore again. "We should go after them. We should hunt those bastards down…" But he knew he couldn't. He had to take care of the injured crew and report back to Star Fleet. "Dammit, it's just not fair."

"I know, Jim," said Bones. He was angry too. "I wonder how the others are holding up."

"Isla's on the other shuttlecraft, so she's helping them," Kirk said.

His head snapped up. "What?! What's _she_ doing there?" he demanded.

"Relax, Bones. She was on the _Indy_, and she's just helping anyone who needs it," said Jim. He was going to be irritated if his friend made a big deal about this now.

McCoy didn't say anything, but instead returned his attention to the injured crew.

The _Indy_ was consuming itself. The explosions had started down in Engineering, and it quickly spread to the rest of the ship. With one final blast, the _Indy_ was destroyed just as Kirk docked his shuttlecraft. The pilot of the other craft docked sloppily alongside him. The occupants of both crafts stumbled dazedly out, some supporting those unable to stand on their own.

Kirk swallowed hard to choke back a shout that was threatening to tear itself from him. The _Indefatigable_ had had a crew of over three hundred individuals. They had saved maybe twenty. Medical staff soon met them to treat the injured crewmembers, and the rest of the rescue party came to Kirk.

Bell was holding a little girl of about three years of age, crying for her father.

"He didn't survive?" Kirk asked him.

Arlo shook his head and jerked it back towards the shuttlecraft where Etienne's body lay. Kirk placed a hand on the ensign's shoulder for a moment.

Ensign Black hadn't survived. Kirk knew that he and the ship's counselor, Tracey Li, had been together. She would be tasked with helping the surviving crew of the _Indy_ work through the tragedy, but he wondered just who would counsel her.

Bones was helping Isla with moving the injured crew to the medical bay. They were both concentrating too hard on doing their jobs to worry about everything that had happened over the past few days.

But it was Spock who really freaked Kirk out. He looked as though someone had knocked the wind out of him. Their situation was terrible, yes, but he had only seen the Vulcan so visibly shaken once before. He would talk to him, but he had to report to Star Fleet and sort out the crisis first.

"Ensign," he said to Bell, "take the child to sick bay and report to the conference room."

McCoy, having heard him, looked up. "I'm not a babysitter, Jim," he said flatly.

Kirk was losing patience. "Dammit, Bones, just watch her!" he snapped.

His friend scowled but nodded.

"Bell, conference room," he repeated.

"Aye, captain."

He turned to his first officer. "Mr. Spock, report to the conference room with Bell. I have to report to the bridge first, but I will join you in a few minutes."

"Aye, captain."

-_-_-_

Bee sought Kirk's eyes the moment he stepped on the bridge.

"Arlo's fine," he said quickly to her. "Mr. Sulu, plot a course for Earth."

"Course laid in."

"Maximum warp."

"Aye, captain."

Kirk sat down heavily in his chair. "Captain's log, star date…"

-_-_-_

Arlo tried to make Adele stay in the medical bay, but she only kept crying, and she wouldn't sit still. Before McCoy could yell at him, he scooped the little girl up in his arms and left. She was instantly quiet. He made his way back to the conference room where Spock was already waiting for Kirk. The first officer raised an eyebrow.

"I believe your orders were to leave the child at the medical bay," he said. He still hadn't completely regained his composure, though his control had fallen back into place again.

"I tried, sir, but she wouldn't stay. I promise she'll be still and quiet," said Arlo.

As if to help prove his point, Adele, face still wet with tears, stuck her thumb in her mouth and snuggled into Arlo's arms. Spock nodded.

"Her father was your friend?" he asked after a moment.

"Yes, sir. He was my roommate at the Academy." He paused. Arlo did not know Spock well at all, and he knew even less about Vulcans in general, but he was pretty sure that they didn't go around kissing human women, dying or not. "I'm sorry, sir," he said quietly.

Spock's jaw tensed almost imperceptibly. He merely nodded.

They sat in silence for a few minutes; the only sound was Adele occasionally giving a small whimper. She had drifted off slightly.

"Commander Spock," said Arlo, "what's wrong with my sister?"

If Spock was surprised by the question, he didn't show it, as usual. "There is nothing the matter with your sister, ensign," he replied.

"What happened to her?"

Spock did not answer immediately. He was aware that Bee and her brother were close, but if she had not told him, then she probably had a good reason for not doing so. Following this line of object, he replied, "If you wish to know, you must ask her."

Arlo was frustrated. "But _you_ know, and I can tell that she's changed. What did you do to my sister?" he demanded.

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Ensign, your sister was experiencing some psychological trauma from transitioning to space which also had some physical effects on her. Both I _and_ Dr. McCoy helped her to work through this problem. She is perfectly fine now."

This frustrated Arlo, but he knew better than to speak against Spock again.

-_-_-_

Spock knew that Arlo was slightly jealous of him and understandably frustrated that he was being purposefully kept in the dark about Bee, but he did not feel it was his place to tell him.

He had recovered from the initial shock of Uhura's death, but things had only gotten worse. He wanted to explode, but he would not allow it. He would suffer his grief quietly. He may be devastated, but he refused to let it control him. There were more pressing matters that needed attention, and he could not afford to be distracted.

It was not long before Kirk joined them. Spock could tell that he was suppressing a lot of anger. He dropped into a seat and turned on the monitor, contacting Star Fleet Command. Luckily, Admiral Pike answered the call.

"Jim, what's going on?" he asked.

"Sir, we answered a distress call issued by the _U.S.S. Indefatigable_, which was being attacked by a single Klingon war bird. By the time we arrived, the enemy ship had retreated, leaving the _Indy_ in considerable damage. A rescue party beamed aboard, but the ship's bridge was entirely destroyed, and most of its crew dead. We managed to save only twenty survivors. Damage to the ship's dilithium chambers set off a chain reactor which caused the ship to explode. One of our crewmembers was killed."

Pike sighed, then addressed Arlo. "Ensign, I assume that child is one of the survivors."

"Yes, sir," said Arlo.

"Was Lieutenant Uhura among the survivors?" he asked.

Kirk paled completely. Then he looked slightly green, as though he were going to be sick.

"Uhura was on the _Indy_?!" He turned to Spock. "Did you know that?" he demanded. Then his eyes widened. "Oh, but that's… That's why you… Oh, Christ… Spock, I –"

"Lieutenant Uhura did not survive," Spock replied evenly to Pike. "Her injuries were too extensive."

Pike continued to talk to Spock from that point on, because Kirk had been rendered speechless. He and Nyota Uhura hadn't gotten off to the best start, but they had eventually become friends, and he respected and valued her immensely. He could only imagine what must have been going on inside Spock's head at that moment.

"You'll receive further orders once you return to Earth," Pike informed them. "We'll have to contact the Klingons and negotiate more pointless peace talks…" He sighed. "This is not going to go smoothly at all. Dismissed, Pike out."

Kirk, voice found again, addressed Arlo first. "Do something with that kid and report back to Scotty."

"Aye, captain."

He turned to Spock. "When they are able, the surviving crew needs to see Counselor Li."

Spock nodded. "I am certain that she is already on the medical bay, however, she will need counsel of her own. I believe that she and Ensign Black were together."

Kirk swore. He had forgotten about that. "Alright, I'll go see Tracey now."

"I will return to the bridge, captain," said Spock.

Kirk eyed him for a moment. "You know, maybe you should see Tracey at some point, Spock." He knew that the suggestion was weak. There was no way Spock would do that. He wouldn't want to be psychoanalyzed, his grief painfully extracted. Vulcans didn't operate that way.

"Thank you, but I do not think that will be necessary."

Kirk sighed. "Of course, whatever you say."

-_-_-_

Bee's shift ended a couple of hours later, so she went in search of Arlo. She found him in Engineering, and was surprised to find Adele with him. She was sitting quietly on a little stool while he worked over something.

"Arlo, what's she doing here?" she asked him.

"Bee, Etienne and Sarah didn't make it," he replied gravely. "Hardly anyone did. There are only about twenty survivors."

Bee felt sick. So many lives had been lost in the space of a few minutes.

"We're going back to Earth," she said. "I know Sarah doesn't have any family, but I think Etienne does."

Arlo shook his head. "His parents died in France, and he doesn't have any other relatives, as far as I know. That's why he joined Star Fleet."

"So what's going to happen to Adele?" she asked.

Arlo had given this some thought over the last few hours, and he had grown attached to Adele. She was so small and helpless, and as Etienne's best friend, he felt it was his responsibility to take care of her. However, when he expressed this to Bee, she wasn't of the same opinion.

"Arlo, you can't keep Adele on the _Enterprise_. She'd be the only child on the ship, and there's no way Kirk would let you in the first place."

"Look, if we take her back to Earth, she'll just go to some state home and lost in the system!" he said.

"Arlo, we're _all_ in 'the system,'" said Bee. "And she'll be taken care of."

"But Etienne said to not let her forget him and Sarah. She'll have no idea who she is or where she came from," Arlo protested.

Bee rolled her eyes. "It's not as though you'll never see her again or not be able to contact her."

"I'm not leaving her with strangers!"

"Arlo, I'm not stupid! I know you aren't doing this for Adele. You're not even doing this for Etienne and Sarah. You're doing this for yourself, because you still feel guilty about Gwyneth. But that's just selfish, Arlo. That was beyond your control, and you're trying to make up for it just to clear your conscience."

Arlo exploded. "That's not true! I care about Adele, Bee. And at least I feel _something_. At least I loved Gwyneth!"

This time Bee did hit him. She drew her arm back and smacked him as hard as she could. Adele's bottom lip started to quiver, and she began to cry again.

"Look, you've made her cry," Arlo spat.

"Well, I think it's obvious how incompetent I am when it comes to kids," she hissed. "Fine, keep her, Arlo, if you can convince the captain to let you. Just see how long you last."

-_-_-_

**A/N: Ooooer, TENSION. Also, we have visual representations of our OCs now for you. (You gots to delete the spaces in the web addresses.)**

**Arlo Bell – http://** **www. lahiguera** **.net/** **cinemania/** **actores/** **justin_bartha/** **fotos/** **2308/** **justin_bartha** **.jpg (Yes, we know it's Justin Bartha. They're not all going to be celebrities.)**

**Bee Bell – http://** **cache4.** **asset-cache** **.net/** **xc/** **200447891** **-001** **.jpg?** **v=1&c=** **NewsMaker&k** **=2&d=** **FBFEFBA2** **B39FC8A734079** **ECEFF609C4A1** **F6F6178A68B340C**

**Isla Knight – http://** **img2.** **timeinc** **.net/** **people/i/2008/** **specials/** **beauties/beauties/** **isla_fisher300** **.jpg (Weird that this chick's name is actually Isla, eh? We didn't do that on purpose either.)**

**Etienne Beauchamp – http://** **www.** **menshairstyles** **.net/** **d/35132-** **1/Medium** **+hair+style** **+for+man** **+with+curly+hair** **.jpg**

**Sarah Beauchamp – http://** **www.** **girl-woman-beauty** **-brains-blog** **.com/** **files/ons** **1/208/2086450/** **25_2009/** **534ae8bbe** **601120b_** **pretty-woman** **.jpg**

**Adele Beauchamp – http://** **comps.** **Fotosearch** **.com/** **comp** **/UNY/UNY677/** **young-girl-curly** **_~u17413582** **.jpg (Sorry about the watermark.)**

**Tracey Li – ****http:// ****.blogspot .com ****/_PYpYC4f ****_ins/Seo ****UdGF6lNI/ ****AAAAAAAAbPs ****/RLRjS5NbRyM ****/s320/pretty-girls5 ****.jpg**

**UPDATE: If you are unable to view the above links, then it is because you have copied and pasted and not removed all the spaces, or if you have typed each character in individually, you have not typed it in correctly. We have triple-checked all the links, and we really don't want any profile links. If it doesn't work, then please try again!!!!**


	18. Inner Turmoil

**Co-authored with the effervescent SailingAwaySoftly.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, but we're working on that.**

-_-_-_

Bee was proud of herself for having enough control to only smack Arlo. She had been prepared to beat him to his knees, something she was more than capable of doing and had done before. But she reasoned that a good bitch slap would hurt him enough, so she restrained herself.

She sighed as she got into a lift and went to the crew's quarters. She was tired and needed some sleep to clear her mind. She hoped that there would be no stops, but the lift halted at the bridge, and Commander Spock stepped on.

"Ensign," he said.

"Commander."

They exchanged no other words, but Bee could tell that something was wrong with Spock. He seemed slightly shaken, and she dreaded to think what could have had just a drastic effect on him.

"Are you alright, Commander?" she asked.

"We have witnessed a terrible event today," he replied evenly.

"Yes, sir." Bee knew that wasn't the real reason, but she also knew that she wasn't going to get any further response. It was, after all, a personal question, so she didn't blame him for not answering.

"I understand that you knew some of the victims," Spock said after a moment. "The child, Adele – your brother is quite attached."

"Arlo's being an idiot," she said.

"You argued again."

Bee sighed. "He refuses to see reason. She has no living relatives, but he wants to keep her on the _Enterprise_."

"The child will be perfectly safe as a ward of the state," Spock said. "His decision is illogical. It is also highly unlikely that the captain will allow her to stay."

She nodded. "I tried to explain that to him, but he feels it's his duty to look out for her because of Etienne's dying request. But I don't see how he's going to be able to do that."

"His loyalty to his friend is admirable, admittedly."

"He's not doing it for Etienne's sake. He's trying to make up for our sister's death. He only wants to ease his conscience."

"I see. That may be true, however, he seems to genuinely care for the child."

"I'm not denying that, but it's not his motivation for looking after her. And there's just no way he'll be able to take care of her and carry out his responsibilities as an engineer. Scotty wants to promote him, but Adele is only going to hold him back."

Spock did not respond immediately. "I have come to learn that while it may be more logical to choose occupational responsibility over moral duty, it is not always the best decision."

Bee blinked a few times. "Are you saying that you think Adele should stay here?"

The lift stopped at the crew's quarters, and they both exited, continuing their conversation as they walked along.

"A starship is hardly a place for a small child. However, your brother possesses such skills that he will always be guaranteed income, whether from Star Fleet or another source. If he wishes to raise the child, he could always resign and return to Earth."

"I don't think Arlo would do that."

"I think he will have to choose between the two. He will not be able to have both. Adele is a very young child. If she were a few years old and had more independence, perhaps she could remain on the ship. It would certainly be exciting for her. However, whatever your brother decides, she will have to return to Earth for the time being."

Bee understood Spock's logical reasoning, and it helped her to think about Arlo more clearly. She was able to view the situation objectively. She had never been apart from Arlo, so she didn't like the prospect of him leaving, but she saw the logic of it.

Spock stopped walking where the corridor forked. He would be going to the officers' quarters. "I am sorry for your friends," he said.

"Thank you." It made her feel sick to think of Etienne and Sarah dead. She considered him for a moment. "Commander, who did you lose?"

Spock held her gaze steadily. "A friend – Lieutenant Uhura. She was formerly a communications officer on the _Enterprise_."

Bee's eyes widened. "I met her!" she said. "It was just after graduation. I'm sorry, commander."

Spock merely nodded. "I will see you tomorrow, Ensign Bell."

"Goodnight, sir."

As Bee retreated to her quarters, she wondered just how close Spock had been to Uhura, because if his distress over her death showed even in the smallest measure, she knew that he must have been screaming inside.

-_-_-_

Counselor Tracey Li's office was at the other end of the medical bay. She and Kirk had been in the same class at the Academy, and he had gotten to know her better on the _Enterprise_. She was sweet and understanding, but she could be extremely motivating and firm-handed when she needed to. She was by no means a push-over. Jim hated to bring her bad news, because she of all people didn't deserve it at all.

She was sitting at her desk pouring over a data pad. She looked up and smiled when he entered.

"Hi, Jim," she said kindly. "I'm just getting a few things done before I start seeing the survivors." Her expression saddened a little. "This whole situation is just so terrible. It's going to be hard for everyone."

He nodded. He knew that it would just be best to get right to the point. "Tracey, I need to talk to you about something."

"Of course."

They both sat down.

He took a deep breath. "Tom was part of the rescue team that beamed over to the _Indy_," he said. "He went down to the ship's engineering to assess the damage, but he was badly injured while trying to help someone out. He was killed in the explosion before we could beam him out." He paused to let her process it.

She swallowed hard to fight back her tears.

"I really don't know what to say, Tracey, but I wanted to be the one to tell you," he said, placing a gentle hand on her back.

"Thanks, Jim." She swallowed again.

"You can take as much time as you need."

She nodded. "I will, I know I need to, but it'll have to wait, but the survivors need me right now."

He wasn't going to argue with her. "Just promise me you'll give yourself some time." He hugged her.

"I have to get back to the bridge now, but I'll come by later to check on you, alright?"

She hastily wiped away a tear that had fallen. "Yes, of course."

Jim didn't want to leave her, considering the blow she had just received, but he really needed to get back to the bridge. He could hardly wait to get back to Earth where everyone could take a breather and regroup.

Of course, there were hundreds of families that needed to be notified, ceremonies to be held, and negotiations with Klingons to be arranged. It was far from over.

-_-_-_

Bee had managed to sleep for a couple of hours, but she shot straight up, suddenly awake. She had broken out in a cold sweat, and she worked to control her breathing for the next few moments. She quickly dressed and practically ran to sick bay.

It was still busy, but everything seemed to be under control. Weaving her way through, Bee went from bed to bed, checking each survivor. There was suddenly a hand on her shoulder.

"Bell, who are you looking for?"

She turned. McCoy looked concerned, but also flustered, as he was no doubt being run off his feet.

"Did Isla survive? Oh gods, where is she?!" she demanded.

Before he could answer, Isla came up beside him.

"I'm alive, Bee, don't worry."

Bee yelped and threw her arms around her friend. "I thought you were dead!"

"No, I'm not."

They both laughed.

"Look, I really don't mean to seem rude, but we need to get back to work," McCoy said.

Bee looked at Isla. "You're back?"

"Just helping out."

"Oh, alright. Well, I suppose I'll go back to sleep then. But I'll come back by later."

McCoy seemed to disapprove of this, but he merely shook his head and said nothing. Bee expected Isla to say something sarcastic, but she supposed that, given the circumstances, she wisely held her tongue. Bee said goodbye and went back to her quarters.

-_-_-_

Adele had fallen asleep, her head propped against the worktable. Arlo smiled faintly. She really was a cute kid.

Scotty didn't seem to mind her being there, but that was only because she wasn't moving. She would normally be full of energy, and having a three year old running around Engineering just wasn't going to work out.

"The lass can't stay here, lad," he said to Arlo a little while later.

"I know."

Scotty eyed him. "So what are you going to do about it?"

"I don't know."

Scotty said nothing further. It was obvious that Arlo didn't want to talk, which was understandable. He'd just lost his friends, and he was feeling guilty on top of that. But the child was going to be a problem for his young engineer, and he wasn't going to have that.

"You're going to have to make a choice eventually," he said. "Why don't you just let her stay on Earth, and then you can bring her back in a few years. She should be fine then."

Arlo didn't say anything. The entire situation was painful and confusing, and he really didn't want to think about it until they got back to Earth. He hoped that Kirk would maybe let him keep Adele on the ship, but even he knew that was unlikely. It wasn't that children could live on starships; it was just that Arlo couldn't look out for her and do his job while she was still so small. However, he did not want to admit that Bee was right. He was still angry at her.

"What would you do, Scotty?"

The older man laughed. "Lad, children are all well and good, but not for me! I'm too busy keeping the ship alive to worry about a child. I'd leave her on Earth with any family you've got and bring her back when she's older."

Arlo sighed. "That makes sense."

"I'm sure your sister would say it was the logical choice. Has she always been like that, or is that just Spock's influence?"

Arlo cringed. "No, she'd say that. But I tell you, Scotty, I don't what's gotten into her lately, but it has something to do with Spock."

"Well, she's a lot like him, lad. Maybe you just haven't noticed until now. And she's around him quite a bit, so it's only natural that he should have some influence over her. I wouldn't worry myself about it."

-_-_-_

Spock was definitely uncomfortable with that fact that Beatrice Bell had managed to read him so easily. He absolutely understood and they were similar, but he was truly unnerved.

He did not have to sleep as much as humans, but he found himself more mentally and emotionally taxed than anything else, so he reasoned that sleep would do him some good. He had no fear of dreams disturbing him, because Spock never dreamed. Most Vulcans did not, and he was grateful to be excluded from what he had observed to be a human torment.

However, he could not force himself to sleep. No amount of meditation would put his body into unconsciousness, so he merely lay awake for several hours, contemplating everything that had happened. He supposed it was his own private grief for Uhura. And he did grieve for her. He had loved her, and he still cared immensely for her. But he had not seen her for months, and he had not expected this to hurt him so badly. He hated himself for feeling this. He wanted to push it away, to seek solace in logic and reason, but his heart would not let his mind have control.

All too soon, it was time for his next shift, and he tried desperately to pull himself together so as not to physically betray his mental exhaustion.

There had never been any words for this conflict that perpetuated itself in his being, his Vulcan and human sides constantly fighting for control. The Vulcan side almost always won out, but on a few rare occasions, his human nature would surface, and these usually tended towards misery. Only once or twice had he experienced real joy.

He allowed himself the luxury of rubbing his temples once before he left the sanctum of his quarters and returned to the bridge. His carefully controlled mask was in place once more. He was his own master. He could quash his inner turmoil and be the person everyone expected him to be.

But in the dark recesses of his heart and mind, he was not so certain that he wanted to entirely be that person anymore.

-_-_-_

**A/N: Lord, that was a taxing chapter. More emotional fall-out in the next chapter too, but it will get happier after that, we promise!**


	19. APOLOGIES

**Co-authored with the effervescent SailingAwaySoftly.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, but we're working on that.**

**-_-_-_**

**Hello, faithful readers! We apologize for making you wait a week for the next chapter. It WILL be up later today we promise! Due to writer's block, scheduling conflicts, and an ungodly amount of orange soda, we just haven't been able to pull it together quickly. HOWEVER, we already have several future chapters written, so we have about two or three more to go until that point, so those will be your reward for waiting patiently this past week AND next week (I will be out of town). Thanks again for your patience and understanding!**

**- WHASHMACKITY aka Ellen, and SailingAwaySoftly aka Gabbi**


	20. What to Do, What to Do?

**Co-authored with the effervescent SailingAwaySoftly.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, but we're working on that.**

-_-_-_

Things had died down considerably in the medical bay. The more seriously injured crewmembers were stable, and it looked as though they were all going to recover – physically at least. Tracey Li was going to talk with them all, but she now had her own grief to deal with too.

Bones sighed and screwed his eyes shut as he squeezed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. It had been a very, very long day, and he was glad to see the end of it. He was looking forward to being blissfully unconscious for the next several hours.

His office door pinged.

"Yes?" he said, doing little to hide his irritation.

"Sir?" someone said quietly.

He looked up to see Isla standing there, shifting her weight uncomfortably between her feet.

"What?" he asked, truly too tired to care.

"Um, if you don't need me, I'm just going to head down to the brig, if that's alright," she said.

"Why the hell would you go there?"

"Well, I… uh, I'm sort of not supposed to be here."

McCoy sighed. He could use her help, and he honestly didn't care about what had happened a few days prior.

"I know you're probably still mad that I came back, so I'll just go now. But I wanted you to know that I really am sorry, sir."

Dammit, she was Jim Kirk all over again. He couldn't _not_ feel sorry for her. Sure, she'd been out of line, but she'd just gone through two terrible events in her life, and she'd stayed on to help without complaining. Now she was voluntarily putting herself back into holding.

"Wait, Knight," he said as she turned to leave. "I know you're sorry. It doesn't even feel like any of that matters now. Truth is, I need your help, or I'm going to collapse under it all. Let's just call it even and be done with it, alright?"

She blinked at him as though she couldn't quite believe her ears.

"You're offering me a pardon?"

"Do you _want_ to go to the brig?"

"Not really."

"Then just keep yourself in line from now on and we'll forget about it. I'll talk to Jim in the morning about getting you reinstated."

"Thank you, sir. Er, do you need me to stay here for a few hours? You look really out of it."

He sighed. "Yeah, that would be really great, lieutenant. Let me know if something comes up." He stood slowly to his feet and trudged out of the sick bay.

"Don't worry, Mac, I _am_ a doctor too, you know," she said quietly to his retreating back.

He paused for only a fraction of a second, surprised to find that he was amused, not annoyed.

-_-_-_

Tracey had just finished talking to an uninjured crewmember for an hour. She was a young ensign, and she was extremely distraught. She was still recovering from the shock, and she was very upset over having lost so many friends. Tracey calmed her down a bit and advised her to go try to get some rest.

She rubbed her temples. She had a terrible headache, and she really felt like crying. She missed Tom so much, but she couldn't just let herself grieve. She had new patients to help, so her own well-being would just have to wait.

Her door pinged a few minutes later, and she sighed before asking whoever it was to come in. She was surprised to see Arlo Bell.

"Tracey, what are you still doing in your office?" he asked her.

She shrugged. "I have to do my job. And who's this?" she asked, indicating the sleeping child in his arms.

"This is Adele. Her parents died."

"Were they friends of yours?"

He nodded grimly.

"Arlo, I'm so sorry."

He set Adele down on the little couch and turned to her. "Tracey, look, I don't know what to say, but you… you just don't need to be here."

She looked sadly at him. "He was your friend too, so you understand a bit of what I'm feeling. But I have twenty-odd new patients, and I'll just have to grieve on my own time."

"Even I know that it doesn't work that way. You don't just decide when to grieve. Tracey, you're hurting now, I can tell. You want to scream, to just tear your heart out because it hurts so much."

Then she was crying because it was true. She'd try to push her grief away for the sake of those who needed her, but it was impossible. She collapsed against Arlo, and he held her for several minutes, just letting her cry. He felt helpless again, just as he had as a kid, when he couldn't stop the pain or save the ones he loved. He swallowed hard, but a single tear rolled down his cheek despite his efforts to hold back.

-_-_-_

They were a couple of hours away from Earth, and the tension level on the ship had risen to a fever pitch. Everyone was anxious to get home, and the crewmembers of the _Indy_ needed to return to their families. Kirk was in constant communication with Pike and the other admirals back at Star Fleet – apparently, the Klingons were ignoring all contact from the Federation.

"… What options are we left with?" Kirk asked Pike.

"Very limited ones. They're completely ignoring us, so we won't be having any negotiations here, at least. And we can hardly fly right into Klingon space. We can't just ignore something like this, not when they were so far into Federation space. We could enter the neutral zone, but that still doesn't guarantee contact," the admiral replied gravely.

"Well, why _can't_ we just fly into Klingon space? _They_ just flew right in attacked a Federation ship for no apparent reason!"

"Captain," Spock interrupted, "there are several flaws in your suggestion."

Kirk sighed. "Here comes the cold water. Alright, Spock, tell us about it."

"The unprovoked attack coupled with the Klingons' failure to respond to the Federation could suggest a larger plot by the empire. Also, this particular Klingon ship could be working outside of the control of the empire. In either circumstance, flying into Klingon space would be no better than walking into a trap."

"But we can't just sit here and wait! It's obvious that they aren't going to acknowledge the attack. _We _have to take action."

"Gentlemen, I've been called away now, but we will discuss this when you arrive at Earth. Pike out."

Kirk ran his fingers through his hair and sighed in frustration. "What the _hell_ are we supposed to do?"

"I believe that is what we will discuss after our arrival," Spock replied.

Kirk rolled his eyes. "I _know_. And what's wrong with you? You've been on edge lately."

"Captain, considering the loss that has affected everyone, it does not surprise me that you observe me to be 'on edge.'"

He sighed again. "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking."

"Do not apologize. There are many currently pressing issues that demand your attention."

The conference room comm beeped. "Sir, arrival to Earth in ten minutes," said Sulu.

"Thank you, Mr. Sulu. We're on our way."

-_-_-_

Isla was practically skipping. Sure, they were in the midst of a devastating crisis, but she was _back_. She silently thanked her lucky stars (not that she believed in such things) that she had been given a second chance. She fully intended to take complete advantage of it, and not waste her favorable twist of fate. She didn't dislike McCoy, so she committed herself to making a greater effort to mind herself. Of course, that didn't guarantee the total eradication of sarcastic comments.

She spent most of her shift talking to the crewmembers of the _Indy_ in the sick bay. They'd all get a chance to talk to Tracey or another counselor, but she thought that they just wanted someone to have idle conversation with to keep their minds distracted.

"Do you think they'll let us go home?" one young ensign asked her, his eyes hopeful.

"Oh, definitely. You need all the rest you can get if you want to make a full recovery and get back to Star Fleet."

The young man's face fell slightly. "I don't want to go back to Star Fleet," he said quietly. "Not after…"

She gave him a kind smile. "I understand. This has to be terrible for you. But you don't have to go back to active duty, you know."

He nodded solemnly. "Will they get them? Will Kirk hunt them down?"

Isla could see the admiration in his eyes. Kirk had only been a captain for a few short years, but his reputation was already widespread. "I'm sure Captain Kirk is doing everything in his power to track them, however, his first duty is to ensure your safety and the rest of your fellow crewmembers'."

He smiled slightly and closed his eyes.

"That's right, you rest now. We'll be home soon."

Isla turned away to check the patient in the next bed a few feet away.

"I hope he finds them," she heard him murmur softly. "I hope he blows them out of the universe."

-_-_-_

**A/N: Okay, so not so happy, but it WILL get better soon, we promise!!!! Short chapter, but the next ones'll be longer! Please review!**


	21. Just When It Couldn't Get Worse

**Co-authored with the effervescent SailingAwaySoftly.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, but we're working on that.**

-_-_-_

Their arrival to Earth was without fanfare. Everyone was given shore leave, but only with the order to be ready to leave Earth on short notice, so none of the crew went far from San Francisco. In fact, many of them didn't even leave the _Enterprise_. Isla and McCoy had escorted their patients from the _Indefatigable_ to the surface, also reporting to Star Fleet. Arlo divided his shore leave between trying to find any relatives of Adele's and helping Scotty prepare the ship for a possible Klingon encounter. Spock and Kirk left immediately to meet with Pike and the other admirals, promising so send word as soon as they had their orders.

Bee, being a lowly ensign, had nothing to do but wait, so she watched Adele while Arlo and Scotty worked. The little girl wasn't much trouble. She napped quite a bit, and was silent the rest of the time. Bee knew that she was still trying to work through the loss of her parents in her barely three year-old mind. Arlo was very attached to her, and she worried about the child's future. They'd had no success in locating any of her family, and while Bee didn't doubt that Arlo could love her just as much, a starship was no place for such a young child.

Just as she was considering asking Adele if she were hungry at all, Arlo showed up at her quarters. He looked a bit tired from working, but also satisfied. "Hey," he said. He was being careful to be friendlier to her with all that had happened.

"Hullo," she replied. "You look a bit tired."

"Nah," he said. "Well, maybe a bit, but I'm about to get my second wind in a minute. I'll take Adele," he added.

"Really, if you want some rest, I don't mind watching her. She doesn't do much."

Arlo's expression saddened slightly. "Yeah… Well, I need to take her anyway. Scotty told me that Kirk wanted you on the surface."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "Dunno."

"Huh. That's strange."

"Well, not _that_ strange."

"I just thought that it would be Commander Spock."

Arlo scowled. He noticed how she included his rank, her respect, while not emotionally expressed, still obvious.

"What was that for?"

"Were you expecting Spock to contact you?"

"Of course not. I just usually report to him first is all. Why are you being so defensive when Spock's name is so much as spoken?"

He sighed. "I just don't get what it is about Spock that's so intriguing to you."

"You _don't_ think he's intriguing? I don't think it's fair that no one really understands him."

"And you think you do? Is that it then, you want to be Spock when you grow up?"

Bee rolled her eyes. "Don't be such a child. It's alright for Kirk – or Scotty, for that matter – to be hero-worshipped, but I'm not allowed to admire someone worth the admiration?"

"You're saying that Kirk and Scotty aren't admirable?"

"Stop twisting my words. Gods, Arlo, sometimes I think that's what you're best at. You manipulate people to get so worked up, and then you've forced everyone into an emotional situation and blame the other party for it."

"Oh, how observant, Holmes. I can't force an emotional situation with you because apparently you don't feel. You're becoming so like Spock, it's disturbing."

"What are you talking about? I've always been like this."

"No you haven't."

"Yes, I have."

"Only since Dad died."

Bee was definitely angry now. "Shut up. You know that's not true. Maybe it became more pronounced then, but only because that happened to be when I grew up. But I've always been reserved."

"Reserved, maybe, but not cold and calculating."

"You think Spock's cold?"

"You think he _isn't_?"

"No, I don't. I mean, he may not show it, but that doesn't mean he can't feel anything."

"Well, I think that anyone who represses everything like that needs help."

"I've already done the shrink route. As for Spock, it's not just him. You have the entire Vulcan race to contend that point with."

"Yeah, all 20,000 of them."

Bee was ready to explode. She knew that Arlo couldn't possibly understand what had been going on inside her head, but she a better notion of just what the genocide had done to the Vulcans thanks to her dreams, and the fact that he was making light of it made her blood boil.

Arlo was smart enough to see that he had definitely touched the wrong nerve. He rapidly changed course, pulling Adele into his lap as though she would give him protection. "You'd better go," he said quickly. "I'm going to call Mum. Might as well, since we're here."

Knuckles white, nails threatening to pierce her palms, Bee nodded tersely and left without a word.

-_-_-_

Kirk and Spock were waiting for her when she beamed to the surface. Kirk looked pissed, Spock as neutral as ever. However, despite his unreadable expression, Bee had noticed that his eyes betrayed him on occasion. At this particular time, she could see the anger simmering there, making his calm exterior so false in her eyes.

"Captain," she said as she approached them. "Commander. You sent for me?"

"Yes," Kirk replied curtly. Bee knew he had to be extremely angry to be so short with her. He had an astounding amount of patience when it came to his crew, despite his usual hotheadedness. "I need to discuss the situation of that kid."

"Adele? Shouldn't my brother be here as well?"

He shook his head. "I've decided that I'm going to allow her to remain on the _Enterprise_. This may not be the best choice, but the loss of her, especially knowing that she would be sent to a state home, will distract Arlo more than her presence. And we're going to need him."

"Why, sir?"

"We're going after those Klingons. We've hardly any leads to go on, but we'll give it our best shot."

She nodded.

"The reason I called you, ensign, is because I want you to report your brother's behavior to me. Scotty relies on him the most, and if anything is hindering his progress, then I need to know about it."

"You want me to spy on my brother?"

Kirk looked at her. Those blue eyes were trying so hard to pierce through her front. "Yes," he answered honestly. "He could be easily emotionally compromised because of the circumstances, and I need to do everything I can to prevent that. I have plenty of faith in your brother, but I have to be sure."

"Yes, sir." She understood his reasons. They were logical, and it didn't mean that she had to be overly intrusive. Arlo could be controlled when he wanted.

"I have to meet with Pike again before we leave," he told them. "As soon as the ship is restocked, we'll leave."

With that, he left Spock and Bee alone.

"You and your brother have argued," he commented.

"How do you know that?"

"It is the only thing that wears so strongly at your emotions. It is the hardest for you to control."

She rolled her eyes. "Wonderful. Yes, we argued." She didn't add that it was about him.

"I see. It is unfortunate that you two should be at such odds, especially given the present situation."

She sighed. "I know. I wish we weren't, but sometimes he make me so angry…"

"Perhaps," said Spock, "we should return to the ship, and then you can seek out your brother and make amends."

-_-_-_

Rather unwillingly, Bee decided to follow Spock's advice. She went looking for Arlo and found him in Engineering, Adele sleeping in a corner while he sat at a workbench. But he wasn't working. His fingers were knotted in his hair, his eyes screwed shut. Bee knew that look well. She knew instantly that someone had died.

"Arlo, who is it?" she asked, sliding onto the bench next to him, putting an arm around his shoulders. "Was it someone from the _Indy_?"

He shook his head, his body trembling slightly.

"Bee," he said quietly, not looking at her. She knew it was to hide his tears. "Bee, it's Mum. She's dead."

-_-_-_

**A/N: We're SO sorry for taking so long to update! There was more out-of-town-ness involved. This chapter was thrown in because we didn't think we had quite enough emotional tension. Enjoy and review! We'll be updating soon, and with longer chapters to come, we promise!!!!**


	22. Not Fine

**Co-authored with the effervescent SailingAwaySoftly.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, but we're working on that.**

-_-_-_

After giving Bee the barest details of the circumstances of their mother's death, Arlo had left immediately for Liverpool. Adele in tow, Bee reluctantly returned to the surface to find Kirk. She knew he probably would not want to be interrupted from his meeting with Pike, but they _Enterprise_ would be leaving soon, and she felt that he might want to know that one of his engineers had just up and gone to England.

Jane Bell had been dead for two months. Mr. Harlan, their old upstairs neighbor, had tried unsuccessfully to contact them. While she had been taken care of well enough at the end of her life, their mother had left them nothing. She'd had a heart attack and never fully recovered, soon after dying in her sleep.

Bee considered her situation as she walked through the Academy to Pike's office. She loved her mother. That went without saying. She was definitely upset – she felt as though her chest were going to explode from the unbelievable anger and sadness. But she had no tears. She had hardly cried as a child, and once she had resolved to submit herself to such a great extent of emotional control, she had never even come close. But she realized that she wanted to cry, to shout.

She nearly jumped when Adele slid her warm little hand into hers.

"I want my mommy," the little girl said, threatening to start crying again.

"I want mine too."

-_-_-_

It was really late, so there was no one else around Pike's office. Bee shifted her weight uncomfortably. She didn't want to interrupt, but it was important. She didn't think having Adele there would help anything, so she told the child to go sit in one of the chairs.

Before knocking, she caught a snatch of their conversation.

"– the whole situation is practically helpless," Kirk was saying. "How are we supposed to find them? I had friends on that ship! Ben, Uhura –"

"We all did, son," Pike said sullenly. "We'll be doing what we can here, of course, but it's up to you and your crew." His voice softened a bit. "Jim, I have very confidence in the _Enterprise_. And in you. Where's that 'I don't believe in no-win scenarios' attitude? You're going to need it for this mission."

Uncomfortable enough already, Bee knocked.

"Come in," Pike said, his voice slightly wary.

Kirk looked almost relieve when she entered. "Ensign Bell," he said.

"At ease, Ensign," said Pike. "What do you need?"

Unsure of how to begin, she settled on saying, "I'm sorry to interrupt, sir, but I need to speak to the captain."

Pike chuckled a little. "'The captain,'" he echoed, amused. "Alright then, I'll go."

Bee changed her mind. "Actually, sir, I wouldn't mind if you stayed. It's… important."

Their piercing blue eyes might as well have been X-rays. "I… that is to say, we… I mean Arlo and I… Today we found out that our mother died. Almost two months ago."

Both men moved to speak, but she held up a hand.

"Please, not now. Please," she repeated. Her voice didn't waver, but they all knew that it was just a mask. "I only wanted to tell you that Arlo's run off to Liverpool, though there's nothing for him to find there."

"What?" said Kirk. "We're leaving in a couple of hours! Bee, I'm sorry, I really am, for the both of you, but I can't hold up the ship for Arlo. And we _need_ him."

"He's not listening to me, sir. He's already angry with me."

Kirk started to swear and then stopped himself, looking warily at Bee. Forgetting herself slightly, she rolled her eyes.

"Please, Captain, no ceremony on my account."

"If you can't get through to him, who will?"

"You could always order him, sir."

Kirk shook his head. "No. Not this time. He's going through something terrible."

Bee thought for a moment. "Scotty," she said. "He'll talk to Scotty."

-_-_-_

Once they had beamed back aboard the ship, Kirk ordered Scotty to beam down to Liverpool to get Arlo. Isla was no longer on shift, so she offered to watch Adele while Bee reported to the bridge.

However, before she could go on shift, Bee was practically cornered by Spock in the lift.

"Ensign Bell," he said as he stepped inside.

"Commander Spock."

There was silence for a few moments, then Spock unexpectedly halted the lift.

"Sir, I'm already going to be late."

Spock studied her for a moment.

"Ensign, you are not, as humans are so prone to say, 'fine.'"

"Commander, I assure you that I am."

"You do realize that I can tell when you are lying, do you not?"

She sighed. "Right. I forgot. How do you know what I feel?"

"I perceived a slight change in your composure as soon as I you spoke."

Be almost swore and then remembered who she was with. "_Kirk_. He _told_ you, didn't he?"

"The captain is unusually perceptive of the… needs of his crew," said Spock. "He told me of your situation and suggested that I talk to you. However, I should tell you that this sort of… discussion would be better suited between you and Counselor Li."

Bee sighed again. "No, Tracey's got plenty of her own problems to deal with right now. Besides, she wouldn't underst–" Bee stopped short. It actually made sense that she was talking to Spock and not Tracey. Spock would understand. Spock _did_ understand. She backed against the wall of the lift and slid to the floor, leaning her head back. It was very awkward for Spock to be towering over her, so he joined her on the floor, though he crossed his legs as though for meditation and kept his spine perfectly straight.

"Ensign, I cannot offer you much counsel, however–" he switched to Vulcan "– _I can empathize with you. I lost my own mother in the genocide._"

"_You did?_" Bee did not offer her condolences, because he would not thank her for them. "_What was she like?_"

"_Very human._"

"_Wait, your mother was a human? But that means you–_"

"_Yes, I am half-human._"

Decided it would be rude to inquire further about his heritage, Bee tried a different tact.

"_My mother was… also very human. Arlo is very like her. She would shout and cry, laugh loudly and smile a lot. Arlo has always been disappointed in lack of… passion._"

"_Your brother is a man who does not like what he does not understand. It frustrates him, even frightens him some. It is also something that makes him such a gifted engineer. What he does not understand, he learns._"

Bee knew his words were true. Maybe she should try to explain to Arlo… but not now. She remembered where they were.

"Commander," she said, getting to her feet. "We both have a shift."

-_-_-_

It was raining in Liverpool. Arlo had returned to his old neighborhood to see Mr. Harlan, but the old man was not at home. He didn't even get a chance to see his old home, because new tenants had already moved in. Arlo eventually wandered down to the old wharf. It hadn't been used in decades, and though it had been torn down, nothing else had ever been built in its place. It still smelled like dead fish.

"Y'know, I never really liked Liverpool," said a voice behind him. "I visited a few times when I was a lad."

"Hullo, Scotty," Arlo mumbled.

"Laddie, what are you doing down here. I know your mother died, but did you really think that coming back here was going to change any of it?"

Arlo didn't answer at first. "When I was a kid, there were only three ways to get out of that neighborhood," he said. "You were either clever enough to figure it out on your own, you had a talent, or you died there. You had to make something of yourself or become nothing at all."

"You are something, lad. But your place isn't in Liverpool."

-_-_-_

**A/N: ANGST. Don't worry, the light shineth at the end of the tunnel! News flash: Pon Farr is fast approaching (seriously, one chapter to go until Spock's… er, 'time of the month.') Also, the Pon Farr chapters have been written, so they're pretty much set in stone. So no griping about it!**

**ATTENTION ALL READERS: We're holding a contest of sorts (okay, it's not really a contest, but just hope you're lucky!) Whoever submits the 200****th**** review gets to come up with an idea for the story (not a huge plot point, just a cute little plot bunny!) Good luck!**

**ALSO: Padme4000 made some AWESOME stuff for the story, so check out the link on her profile and thank her for her hard work!**


	23. Frienemies

**Co-authored with the effervescent SailingAwaySoftly.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, but we're working on that.**

-_-_-_

Arlo went to see Bee the instant he was back on the _Enterprise_, mostly because he wanted to see Adele. She was in her quarters, and the little girl was asleep.

"Hey," said Bee.

"Hey."

"You came back."

"Scotty."

"Yeah."

"Kirk's letting you keep Adele."

"I know."

There was silence for a few moments.

"I have a shift," Bee finally said.

"You always have a shift."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Do you miss Mom?"

"Of course I do!"

"You sure don't seem upset."

"Well, what would you like me to do, Arlo?" she said. "You want me to lock myself in here for a few weeks? Mope around the ship? Just turn into nothing but great pile of uselessness?"

"Forget it! I don't care!"

"Wow, I thought that was _me_, Arlo."

"Shut up! Go to your shift!"

Bee really didn't know what made her snap, but before she knew it, Arlo was on his knees, groaning and clutching his stomach with one hand why trying to stem the bleeding from his nose with the other. Amazingly, Adele was still asleep. Glaring icily at him, Bee was ready to walk away and leave him to tend to himself, but she felt slightly guilty.

"I'm still mad at you," she hissed as she helped him to his feet.

He merely grunted, but allowed her to walk him to the medical bay.

-_-_-_

"Gods, Arlo, what happened to your face?" Isla asked as the two entered the ward.

"Ask Bee," he snapped.

Isla turned to her friend.

Bee scowled and rolled her eyes. "Personally, I think it's an improvement."

"Nice to know you two are such mature adults," said Isla. "Go on to the bridge, Bee. I'll fix him up."

"I wasn't planning on staying."

"Sheesh, what happened?" she asked Arlo as she watched Bee leave. "You know what? I don't even want to know."

A few minutes later, she had Arlo all set, so she sent him on his merry way. She shook her head as she went to check a few charts.

"Honestly, those two…" she muttered to herself.

"Eh?" McCoy asked, standing a few feet away, looking over some mold samples.

"Just Arlo and Bee. They've really had it in for each other lately."

"If you ask me, it's that kid, and I think Bee's right. There's no way Arlo's going to be able to divide himself like that."

"Well, I didn't ask you, but I agree."

Bones sighed. "Look, Knight, we need to have a talk."

"Uh-oh. Mac is using his serious voice," she trilled.

He looked at her sternly. "Cut it out."

She could tell he was being serious, so she sobered. "Yes, sir. What would you like to discuss?"

"We need some guidelines here. As much as I might not want to admit it, I really need you here, and I don't want to go through another court martial again."

"Oh, believe me, I don't want to either. I'll just keep my mouth shut."

"Look, I'm not saying you can't be… _you_ sometimes. You just have to stay behind that line, understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Lord knows I dish enough of it out."

"Just not used to taking it back, eh?"

He rolled his eyes. "No, I get enough from Jim. And I don't mind so much, so long as you don't take it to far again. Even I know when I have to defer to Jim's rank. And remember that you, unlike him, are not my best friend."

"Don't worry, I was never really sold on the idea of braiding your hair and painting your nails anyway. So, for the sake of rank, we're going to be frienemies?"

"What?"

Isla rolled her eyes. "Enemies who pretend to be friends, or friends who pretend to be enemies, for one reason or another."

McCoy scowled, but nodded. Whatever.

-_-_-_

"So," said Isla a little while later, "do you know where we're going, exactly?" The _Enterprise_ had been at warp speed for a little over an hour. The sick bay was amazingly devoid of patients. The nurses were mostly just doing busywork, and Isla, who had finished her notes, was talking idly with McCoy as he perused data pads.

"Well, we're going to try to track the Klingon ship. It's really pointless to try to negotiate with the Empire. Either the ship is their idea, so they obviously won't talk about it, or it's separate, and they won't claim it. Either way, we don't have much to go on."

"He talks to you?"

He looked up. "Who? Jim? Well, yeah, he does, but that's what our mission is right now. You're supposed to know this, Knight."

"Must have been sleeping or something."

"Yeah, or something."

She smirked at him. "Well, wouldn't you like to know…"

He scowled. "Don't you have something to do?"

"No. I'm just waiting for my shift to end. Want to let me go early?"

It was McCoy's turn to smirk. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of that. Since you're so efficient with your work, why don't you help Nurse Chapel with inventory on the new supplies we just got?"

"Do you live to torture me?"

"Hey, I'm the commanding officer, you're the one on probation, and I have supplies that need sorting."

She sighed. "Yes, sir."

Bones chuckled to himself as she trudged off. She really wasn't that bad. She just needed a little control. And it made a huge difference to have her helping him. She really was a great doctor.

_And definitely easier on the eyes than the last medical officer I had,_ he thought idly. Then he caught himself. _Where the hell did that come from?_

-_-_-_

Mac really wasn't so bad when it came right down to it. He was still infinitely annoying, but she didn't loath the very core of him for no reason any more. That was definitely a step in the right direction. And he had given her a second chance. That counted for something in Isla's book.

_Why do I even have a book on Mac?_ she thought.

-_-_-_

**A/N: Woot! More Isla and Bones! We're getting closer and closer to Pon Farr… And remember our contest thingy! The 200****th**** reviewer gets to contribute to the plot! So press that button and review!**


	24. Lethal Vulcan PMS

**Co-authored with the effervescent SailingAwaySoftly.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, but we're working on that.**

-_-_-_

The _Enterprise_ had been attempting to track the elusive Klingon ship for two weeks with zero progress. Tensions were high. It seemed as though Star Fleet had sent them on a fool's errand. The death of Uhura had floored the crew. She had been well-liked even by those who didn't really know her, and her closer friends were still in shock. However, these reasons still were pretty far-fetched when it came to explaining just why James Kirk was pitching the mother of all fits at the door to his first officer's quarters.

"SPOCK, I DON'T KNOW WHAT THE _HELL'S_ WRONG WITH YOU, BUT IF YOU DON'T GET YOUR VULCAN ASS OUT HERE _RIGHT NOW_, I'M GOING TO HAVE YOU PHYSICALLY REMOVED AND COURT-MARTIALED!" he railed. A couple of crewmembers passing by exchanged worried glances and walked quickly away.

"Captain, what's wrong?" someone asked him.

He turned around. "Oh. Hi, Bee. I really don't know. He started acting strange a couple of days ago, and yesterday, he yelled at me on the bridge for no apparent reason and then left. He's been in his quarters ever since, and he won't talk to anyone at all."

"Do you think he's sick?" Bee looked slightly alarmed.

"Maybe. Whatever it is, it caused him to lose his temper, and I swear, I really didn't do anything this time," Kirk replied.

"Maybe we should go see Dr. McCoy or Isla. Maybe they can tell us something."

Kirk sighed. "Yes, maybe. Come on, let's go."

Bee followed him. "Let's think back to three days ago. Did anything happen that could have caused this?"

"Well, we've only been going after those bastard Klingons," said Kirk. "We haven't been down to a planet or come into contact with anything out of the ordinary." He thought hard. "Hey," he said after a moment, "you wore a woman's uniform the other day."

"So?"

"Nothing, I was just saying. That's pretty much the only thing out of the ordinary that I could think of."

-_-_-_

**Three Days Earlier…**

-_-_-_

_For some unknown reason, there had been some back-up with the ship's laundry, and Bee found herself without a clean uniform. She searched frantically around her quarters for something to wear, but her attempt was futile. Giving up, she reluctantly made her way to the huge uniform depository to see if there was anything there. Since it was the crew's quarters, men and women were on separate halls, and the only thing there was women's uniforms. Her shift started in ten minutes, and she didn't have time to go over to the next hall to grab her preferential male uniform._

_Unwillingly, she grabbed a yellow, long-sleeved dress that came to about six inches above her knees. She felt strange and exposed, but she made her way to the bridge and sat at her station without a word to anyone. She was aware of several people staring at her, but she didn't take her eyes off the control panel._

"_Nice legs, Bee," Kirk said._

"_Don't force me to bring up sexual harassment charges," she warned._

_Kirk didn't respond to that, and she smiled a little to herself._

_Sulu kept glancing sideways at her. She'd become good friends with the pilot, and she was hoping to be promoted soon so that she could have the job too. Sulu had a relief, but he wasn't very good or very friendly. Bee knew that if she were promoted, the other guy would be sent back to the Academy to be reassigned._

"_Don't you say a word," she told Sulu._

"_Wasn't going to." He smiled good-naturedly at her, and she couldn't help but return it a little._

_At that moment, Bee was aware of another pair of eyes on her. She turned slightly to see Spock looking at her. He looked a little curious, as though he were making a scientific observation. He raised one eyebrow and turned back to his station. Bee was glad that he did. Somehow, she felt more vulnerable to his analytical eyes than under Kirk's ogling gaze._

-_-_-_

"Dammit, Jim, he won't talk to me either," said McCoy. "I know he's half-Vulcan, but this is just downright _weird shit_. There is no explanation for this!"

Jim sighed and swore softly. "I'm seriously worried about him."

Bee remained silent for a moment. Before isolating himself, Spock had exhibited an extreme emotional outburst with no apparent provocation. She had noticed that he hadn't seemed quite right as well. Just yesterday he had given her a data pad, and she could have sworn his hands were trembling. Spock didn't tremble. He just didn't.

Vulcan culture was obscure at best to humans. Even with her thorough knowledge of the language, there were still a few concepts that Bee was unsure about. However, she had a hunch about Spock's condition, and she knew that she needed to confront him about it.

"I'm going to try to talk to him," she announced.

"You?" McCoy asked. "You know what's wrong with him?"

"I have no idea. But I… understand how he functions. I may be able to figure it out."

Jim nodded. "Alright, it's worth a try."

The two of them made their way back to Spock's quarters, this time armed with an override code for his door, courtesy of Scotty. Bee suggested that Kirk wait outside at first. He nodded.

"I will, but if anything happens, I'm coming in there."

Bee entered quietly. The lights were dimmed to quarter brightness. Spock was lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. He was trembling slightly.

"Commander?" she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Ensign Bell, I would advise you to leave."

"Are you dangerous?"

"Yes."

"I think I know what's happening to you."

He tilted his head to look at her. "I seriously doubt that."

"Alright, maybe I don't know _exactly_ what's happening to you, but I have to know – does this have anything to do with Vulcan mating rituals?"

He steadily met her gaze.

"It does, doesn't it? Is that why you've been having weird mood swings and generally scaring the hell out of everyone?"

His jaw clenched. "You do not understand."

"No! No, don't worry, I'm not going to ask. I won't force you to tell me, because I know that you can't. But at least talk to Jim. He's the captain; he can help you if you just tell him what you need."

Spock did not reply, but merely nodded his head slowly.

Bee turned to leave, relieved that she had been able to get through to him. Before she left him, however, he said one thing to her retreating back that made her stop.

"I need Vulcan."

-_-_-_

The look on Bee's face when she came out did not bode well.

"Oh, gods, what's wrong?" he asked her.

"I don't know exactly. I think he'll tell you if you ask him, if you _insist_. It has to do with… biology. But Captain," she said hesitantly, "I think he's dying."

Kirk didn't know exactly what to do. He knew he couldn't hug her. She'd hate him for that. She was obviously just as concerned as he was though.

"He'll be alright," he assured her. He hated that he felt as though he were possibly lying.

-_-_-_

"Spock," said Kirk quietly.

"Captain." Spock sat up and slowly stood to his feet. He seemed distracted and sluggish.

"You're sick, Spock."

His first officer sighed, his eyes half-lidded. "It is called _plak tow_. Blood fever."

"What are you doing in here then? Get yourself down to the sick bay so Bones can help you!"

"There is no medicinal cure for this," he replied solemnly.

Kirk's jaw dropped. "So – that's it? You're just going to stay in here and die? _Tell me what you need, Spock_."

"I NEED VULCAN!" he shouted suddenly.

Jim flinched and took a step back. Spock seemed to compose himself a little.

"Forgive me, Captain. I – I am not certain I can explain this."

"I want you to live, Spock. You have to try. Bee said it had to do with biology. Care to elaborate?"

"Specifically – the biology of… reproduction."

"Reproduction as in… you mean… sex, right?" Kirk asked. He felt a little relieved. Sex was something he felt he could handle pretty well.

"Yes," Spock replied. "I must mate."

"And you need to return to Vulcan? Like salmon?"

If Spock didn't appreciate the analogy, he didn't show it, for which Kirk was thankful.

"I do not now if I can explain everything to you, Jim. There are… complexities that I am not able to convey. Vulcan children are betrothed at a very young age. They make a mental bond between their minds by touch. When they have matured, they complete the bond with physical consummation. A hormone is released, inducing _plak tow_, and the two mate. This process occurs approximately every seven years. However, if they fail to mate, they will die within a week's time."

_Holy shit,_ Kirk thought. _This is like lethal Vulcan PMS._

"So, basically," said Jim, "your options are 'get laid' or 'die.'"

Spock raised an eyebrow. "As you so crudely put it."

"So, do you have a wife somewhere that we need to get you to? Because not that I'm not willing to do it – I'll tell Sulu to lay in a new course – but Star Fleet is not going to be very happy with us if we deviate from this mission."

Spock shook his head. "T'Pring – she was lost in Vulcan's destruction."

"Then why is this happening to you? This can't be one-sided!" Kirk said. His voice was steadily rising. "So you're just going to die like this?" He felt shamefully helpless. "There has to be _someone_ who can help you!"

"I believe my father and the remaining Elders could," said Spock. "But even at maximum warp, we are too far from the colony. I will be dead within five days."

Jim wanted to hit something. Spock couldn't just _die_ over something like sex. That had to be the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard. Then he suddenly had an idea.

"Spock," he said hesitantly, "you're half-human."

"Yes, Captain."

"Your mother was human."

"She was. Jim, what do you mean to say by these statements?"

"So your father bonded with her!" Jim was starting to get excited now.

Spock blinked. "Yes. I still do not see what this has to do with my situation."

"Well, how about bonding with a human?"

The eyebrow went up. "It is not a simple matter of choice. _Plak tow_ can be induced in Vulcans who were not bonded as children. However, they do not choose how it is triggered or for whom."

"Wait, so you're saying that another person can make this happen to you?"

"In theory, yes."

"But your mate died, right?"

Spock sighed. "Your redundant questions are trying, Captain."

"Wow, your logic must really be off if you can't follow my train of thought here. Okay, see if this makes sense. If your mate died, then the bond between you was severed, right? And yet, here you are, in heat! So _logically_, someone else caused that. Someone on this ship."

Spock seemed to ponder this for a moment. "Your logic is sound," he said finally. "However, I have no idea as to who could have triggered this."

"Well," said Kirk with an almost imperceptible hint of mischief in his voice, "what about Ensign Bell?" He ignored Spock's eyebrow of doubt. "Think about it! She's _fluent_ in Vulcan. How many humans do you know who can do that? And you two have been awfully chummy lately. It's because there's this _connection_ between you and her, and I think it's the language. You yourself said, and I quote, 'She is remarkably Vulcan-like, for a human.' I may be wrong, but she's the best candidate, and if we don't do _something_, you're going to die, and I have to say, I'm not alright with that."

"Even if you are correct, and I strangely believe that you may be, I cannot ask such a thing of her. Of anyone."

"Why not?"

"Because it is not a temporary solution. What she would be agreeing to is permanent, and no human woman could want that."

"Your mother did."

"My mother loved my father, as he did her."

"So you're saying you feel _absolutely nothing_ for Bee?"

Spock faltered. "That is as maybe, but she does not reciprocate."

"I think you'd be surprised."

"I am sure I would be, if you had anything to do with it."

This was good. Spock was starting to sound normal. Talking about Bee seemed to help. "You respect her, don't you? You think she's interesting? Well, _I_ think it's fairly obvious that she holds you in the same regard. Would you even go so far as to say she was your friend?"

"I would." Spock seemed to give this a little more consideration. "She is my friend."

"Excellent."

"I still cannot ask this of her."

"If you want to live you can, _and_ I'm ordering you to. If you like, I could talk to her first. She seemed to understand a bit of what's happening to you anyway."

Spock did not reply, but instead lay back upon his bed. Jim sighed and left, wondering exactly what he had just done.

-_-_-_

Kirk found Bee sitting at her station on the bridge. She looked a little tense, but he was otherwise unable to tell whether or not she was worried.

"Bell," he said quickly, "come with me. Chekov will be here in a minute to relieve you."

She followed him hesitantly. "Is this about Commander Spock?" she asked as they walked. "Is he alright? What did he tell you?"

"I'll let him explain it to you himself," said Kirk, "but I need to speak with you first. There is a difficulty concerning Spock's… biology. He needs to mate very soon, or he'll die. It's complicated, but we just don't have enough time to get back to the colony."

"So that's it? He's just going to die?"

Kirk hesitated a moment. "No, we're still hoping to prevent that. I really don't know how to say this, and I'm definitely not ordering you or forcing you – but I think maybe you should be the one to save Spock."

She looked genuinely shocked. "Me?" she asked quietly. "Why would he ask me?"

Kirk was a little confused. She sounded as though she were surprised that she would be the one to help Spock, but she didn't sound unwilling.

"Why not you? You're his friend, aren't you? He respects you and values you."

"That's hardly a reason for something like this."

"Bee, I have no right to ask this of you, and neither does Spock, but he's _dying_. And trust me, there's _something_ between the two of you."

Bee sighed. "Captain, I… I don't want Spock to die. But '_something_' isn't substance. It's a notion."

"Look, I just know that Spock has _never_ taken to a human with such fascination, and I like to think that I'm not so blind as to not notice your attachment to him."

Bee didn't reply. She wouldn't deny that she harbored _something_, as he so vaguely put it, for Spock, but she knew that she couldn't depend on it for motivation to act. She would have to leave motivation to keeping Spock alive. She nodded to Jim and returned to her quarters without a word.

But then again, if she agreed to completely give herself to Spock in order to keep him alive because she genuinely cared about him, wasn't that the deeper _something_ that Kirk was so convinced was there?

-_-_-_

Bee decided to take a nap once she got back to her quarters. She didn't really think her head would clear much, but she needed some strength. However, her subconscious had other ideas.

_Bee rarely dreamed in first person. Even if the dream was about her, she was always on the outside observing herself – an odd sensation that she had never quite gotten used to._

_She was watching herself sleep, which would have been uneventful if not for the fact that she wasn't alone in the bed. What was even more surprising was the man sleeping next to her._

_Commander Spock._

_It was fairly obvious that neither of them was wearing anything, but the sheets covered what needed to be covered. Still, Spock was gloriously bare-chested, and the position of Bee's body in relation to his was undeniably possessive. Her body was pressed into his side, her head resting between his shoulder and neck. Her hand was splayed across his chest, and her leg was wrapped around one of his. But it was Spock that interested her._

_Spock asleep looked like… Spock asleep. His face was as calm as ever. He made no noise, and he didn't move around much. In fact, he was as still as death. He awoke suddenly and then proceeded to do something completely unexpected. He gently pressed his lips to her sleeping self's forehead._

Bee jerked awake suddenly as a flash of lust burned through her. She sat up and rubbed her temples. This was not the first time she'd had this dream. For the past week, she'd watched that scene in her sleep, but she had refused to think about it or let it distract her.

Alright, so she was attracted to Spock. She wasn't going to bother denying it, but it still disturbed her. Spock was her friend, and she knew he respected her, but this sudden need for her of his had to be just a result of his emotionally altered state. There was no way that he was actually attracted to her when he was himself. But _she_ was, and that made it worse.

Her door pinged. Someone wanted to see her.

"Come in," she said.

It was Spock. He was visibly strained. There were tiny beads of sweat on his forehead, and his hands were trembling. His gaze was scorching, and there was pain too, as he tried so hard to maintain his control.

"Ensign Bell," he said. His voice shook. "I trust that the captain has informed you of my… predicament, as well as a potential solution. I will do my best to explain everything exactly to you now, but first I convey to you that you are in no way obligated to agree."

He went on to explain it all to her – that it was called Pon Farr, that she would be mentally and physically bonded to him, that she would essentially be his wife – and she heard and retained every word, but she knew before he had opened his mouth to speak that she would agree. Her respect for him, her sense of duty to him as his friend would not allow her to refuse. Her subconscious, at least, had thrown attraction into the equation as well.

"Commander," she said quietly when he had finished. He was standing with his hands clasped behind his back, waiting for her to decide his fate. "I agree to be bonded to you."

It was hard to tell whether or not he was relieved or further pained. He nodded curtly and quickly turned to leave her quarters.

"Ensign," he said before he left, "I have duties that I must attend to. However, my situation is urgent, and I cannot resist this much longer."

"Tonight then," she said suddenly, surprising herself. She could see that he was genuinely in a great deal of pain, and she could not justify prolonging his suffering.

He left, and Bee exhaled slowly. She had the peculiar feeling that she'd just sold her soul, and at the moment it was difficult to tell whether or not Spock was the devil.

-_-_-_

**A/N: WOOT! How was THAT?! It's a bit of a jump from the last chapter, but there will be flashbacks and such. DON'T FORGET: The 200th reviewer gets to contribute sto the plot! SO START REVIEWING.**


	25. Bonding

**Co-authored with the effervescent SailingAwaySoftly.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, but we're working on that.**

-_-_-_

Bee was shaking in her boots. She had agreed not only to simply become Spock's wife, but also to bond mentally and physically with an emotionally unstable Vulcan. She sifted through her mind for her reasons for consenting. She obviously did not want Spock to die. She respected and admired him, even considered him a friend despite their turbulent beginnings. She had, on occasion, entertained the notion that Spock meant more to her than she realized. But these were vague daydreams that she would never have dared to act upon.

She was still in her uniform. Unable to think of anything else to do, she stood outside his quarters and anxiously waited him to finish his shift. Despite his seriously altered state, he had insisted on carrying out his duties. This left her some time to think about everything that had happened.

A part of her felt incredible wonder in the fact that Spock had simply walked into her quarters, explained the entire situation, which obviously pained him, and then basically asked her to marry him. Feeling her knees weaken slightly at that thought, she slid to the floor and rested against the door. She didn't have to do this. She could have refused Spock, and they would have just gone to the colony and found someone with which he could bond, since his first bond mate had apparently died in Vulcan's destruction.

But she _did_ want this. She had to admit to herself that behind her carefully constructed barriers, she was indeed attracted to Spock, and her subconscious had no trouble in filling her head with dark dreams that only confirmed her secret, deep desire to act on that attraction. She squeezed her eyes shut and let her head fall back against the door with a dull _thud_. She had been stupid. Now she knew she was in way over her head because of some childish fantasy.

When she opened her eyes, he was standing before her. She hastily stood to her feet, but kept her eyes from looking directly into his, afraid of what she would see there. Observing the rest of him, she noticed that he was deathly pale and that he was shaking slightly. Was he anxious, or was it just a result of the hell his body must have been going through?

"We must proceed quickly," he said through clenched teeth. "The longer we wait, the worse I will become."

She nodded mutely and followed him inside.

That's when Bee thought she was going to lose it. She wanted to scream, to vomit, to run away in terror. But she was rooted to the spot. He turned to face her.

"You are afraid," he stated simply.

"Yes," she whispered.

He reached out suddenly, and Bee flinched slightly, but in a moment of unexpected gentleness, he merely brushed one finger against her cheek.

"I am sorry," he said, his voice rough. "Truly, I am. I have no right to ask this of you."

Bee shuddered slightly. Part of her wished that he _did_ think he had that right. It would have been easier if he had really wanted her too.

He slid his hand up to her temple. His fingers were burning with blood fever, and she waited apprehensively for him to enter her mind. When he did, she let out a soft gasp. Not only was he in her mind, but she could see his too.

Distracted by being inside his head, it took Bee a moment to realize that he was speaking to her. He was searching for her subconscious. Once he found it, Bee felt as though she were swallowing his mind. A moment later, the sensation had passed, but Spock said that he was going to guide her through his own mind now.

His subconscious was likened to a lake. The water was black and still, and Spock told her to dive in. Doing her best to mentally follow his directions, she complied. She felt his shock as she entered his subconscious, and suddenly she was encompassed in him. His very essence, or whatever it was that made him Spock, wrapped around her own mind and branded itself into her. A moment later he pulled her out, and she mentally took a deep breath.

Then she was back to herself, her mind was her own.

"The meld is complete," he said. His voice was low and still rough, and a sense of urgency had made its way into it.

Bee could have honestly died right there. The mind meld hadn't been so bad. She had been mentally bonded to Spock, but for some reason she thought that it would have made her feel calmer about the physical bond, and it didn't. When she had been drowning in his emotions, she had realized just how much he had kept hidden within himself, and just how close it was to breaking the surface. If he channeled all that physically… Well, Bee began to worry about her well-being.

**-_-_-_**

It was obvious that there was going to be no foreplay. Bee hadn't expected as much, so she wasn't too bothered by it. But what did bother her was that it was also obvious that Spock was in complete control of the situation. Once they moved forward, there was no way she would be able to stop him. Surprisingly, her body seemed to respond to this revelation.

Spock's eyes widened slightly. Well, _he_ had definitely noticed. His eyes were dark and wild – frightening – but there was still that small measure of control that kept him together. Bee's heart was threatening to explode out of her chest from anticipation.

And then everything happened all at once. She was on her back on his bed, and he had somehow just ripped the clothes from her body. She'd known he was strong, but she was still surprised and more than a little frightened. He was on top of her, the burning weight of his body against hers. A second later, he was inside her, and Bee cried out because it hurt. What she hadn't expected was to actually feel a strange pleasure in the pain. All she could sense was him. He was all around her. It was like being inside his mind again.

All she could do was to hold on to him. His skin was feverish and slick with sweat. Bee buried her head in the place where his shoulder met his neck, digging her nails in his back. This elicited a low growl from Spock. She sucked in a labored breath as she felt her internal organs seemingly combust. She had never experienced such an explosive feeling before, and she literally saw stars.

Then nothing.

**-_-_-_**

When Spock had finished, he fell to the side so as not to crush her small form with his weight, and he was immediately himself again. The madness was completely gone. Not just reined in, but eradicated.

To his horror, he realized that she was unconscious. It had not taken very long, only ten minutes, but he was still shocked. He instantly feared that he had harmed her, but when he checked her pulse, it seemed normal enough. She appeared to be asleep. He fell onto his back and was soon sleeping himself.

**-_-_-_**

Spock awoke first the next morning, but he found himself unable to move. Bee's body was pressed into his side. At that moment, she stretched a little in her sleep, and Spock was horrified. There were bruises on her arms in the shape of his hands, his teeth marks on her left shoulder, and another smattering of bruises on her sides. Guilt, shame, and self-loathing seeped into his mind. He had hurt her. She had not known what had been in store for her, and he had broken her.

Bee turned, still asleep, and rested her head against the side of his chest. Unsure of what to do, Spock kept very still, not wanting to wake her. Then a curious notion found its way into his logical head.

Tentatively, he reached out and placed his fingers on her temple. He wanted to see her mind again, to really see it this time. He was aware of the enormous breach of privacy he was committing, but as he could not completely remember the events of the night before, he needed to seek the answers from her.

Bee had fashioned her mind in a very organized sort of way. He seemed to be standing in a stone corridor with a high vaulted ceiling. Along both walls were a dozen ancient-looking wooden doors. He turned to the first one on his left and tried it. It swung open easily.

It was empty and seemed to be pulsing with a strange half-light. Since this room was at the forefront of her mind, Spock concluded that when she was conscious, this was where her waking thought processes occurred. However, since she was now asleep, he guessed that her current mental activity was occurring in her subconscious – a place he was curious to explore again now that the bond was in place.

He left the first room and entered its counterpart on the right side of the corridor. This door opened easily too, but this time he was overwhelmed by a wave of emotion and excitement. He found himself watching the scene from a few hours before being replayed from her point of view. This must have been her surface memory. Spock's first instinct was to leave, but he found himself curious as to how she had seen him.

He could feel her emotions at the time, and he trembled as his senses were filled with fear, wonder, and excitement. She _had_ been afraid of him, but she had _wanted_ him. Spock was surprised at how uncontrolled he looked, and he dreaded the day when he would lose his control again. He left before the scene could end, anxious not to relive it.

Spock no longer felt sure about exploring her mind, but he pressed on. The next few doors were all memory, progressing from short-term memory to long-term memory. Her memories of her earlier years were behind heavier doors. Spock found her childhood interesting, but after the death of her father and sister, her teenage memories were tainted with sadness and the determination to suppress that sadness.

He moved on to another door, but this one was harder to open. He had to exert quite a bit of force to open it, and he felt slightly guilty about it. Spock waited for the memory to surround him. It was dark, and waves of past nervousness and uncertainty rippled through him. She was about sixteen or seventeen, approximately, and she was with a young man of about the same age. From her emotions, Spock quickly realized that this was the first sexual encounter Bee had experienced. He mentally closed his eyes, but he could still feel her confusion, disappointment, and shame. He left the room, the door slamming closed behind him.

The next room he entered did not hold memories. There were wild colors, sharp contrasts, and warped noises. He recognized this as her perception, her mind's eye. Curiosity peaked, he waited for the brilliance around him to settle into a definite form. To his surprise, he saw a mirror of himself, but he was markedly different. The image was a couple of inches taller than his actual self. This made sense, as he was considerably taller than Bee. His ears were more prominently pointed, and the angles of his face sharpened. His eyes were deep and almost black. The reflection's voice was like silver, calm and controlled, yet decidedly mysterious.

Emotional reaction accompanied her physical perception. She was slightly intimidated by him, but she had it within herself to match that if necessary. She had high respect for him, and she found him fascinating – physically, yes, but mostly intellectually. And there was something else, something that felt partially trapped, as though she had purposefully suppressed it. Attraction. Yes, she was attracted to him, but the depth of it was obscured. This surprised him. His intellect stimulated her mind, certainly, but Spock was surprised that she also was physically attracted to him. He had never considered himself lacking in that particular area, but his overwhelmingly logical essence transcended his appearance and usually made him intimidating to humans.

Yet Bee was just as logical as he was. It didn't intimidate her as much because it made sense to her. He understood this, and he realized that it had been almost the same with Nyota. She had not been as logically-minded as he, but she had still been controlled. This only added to his curiosity, and he left the room.

The next few rooms stored learned behavior and information. The two rooms containing her mathematical processes and understanding of the Vulcan language seemed infinite and were similar in construction. Equations and verb conjugations flooded his mind, and he could not help but be impressed.

Starting to fear she would wake soon, Spock proceeded to her subconscious mind. It was located at the end of the corridor in the form of a trap door. Above was a stained-glass window portraying a bumblebee of all things. Spock found this amusing. He heaved at the handle of the trap door and lifted it open. Below was a dark, narrow staircase, and he hesitantly began his descent. When he finally reached the bottom of the stairs, the trapdoor above him swung shut, and he was momentarily thrown into darkness.

A few moments later, his eyes adjusted, and he saw a faint bluish light. It grew brighter as he approached it, and he was drawn to reach out and touch bright little orb dancing in the air before his eyes. When he did, everything around him shattered, and he was thrown into the deepest part of her mind. When everything was still again, her mind was practically humming with energy as though it were electrified.

He proceeded with caution, and he soon realized that she was dreaming. Again, he was surprised to find himself there. In her dream, they were in his bed asleep, similar to their present situation. Spock looked much like himself, his face characteristically calm and serene. Bee was pressed against his side, her head resting on his chest. Her hand was splayed across his stomach, her leg draped over his.

He was assaulted with a wave of powerful emotion. The dream emitted contentment more strongly than anything else, but there was an underlying pulse that burned in Spock's mind. It was lust. She _lusted_ for him. He realized how possessive Dream Bee's position was of Dream Spock's body. He was shocked more than anything else. This was far beyond the attraction he had seen in her perception room.

Spock did not know what to think. He cared for this little human woman, certainly. He admired her, for she truly was highly intelligent. He definitely found her interesting, both physically and in personality. He had concluded that her mastery of the Vulcan language had depended largely on the fact that it was well-suited to her personality. Physically, she was not what most humans would call particularly attractive, but nor was she by any means plain. Her face was interesting, her eyes holding all the emotions she otherwise rarely expressed. Spock noted that she was actually very similar to him, though definitely not quite as controlled. His self-mastery was natural and nearly flawless. Bee's control was learned and sometimes forced. But still, the similarity was undeniable.

There was nothing much going on in her dream. They were both still asleep. However, Dream Spock began to stir, and he seemed surprised to find himself there. He turned to still sleeping Dream Bee, hesitated, then bent and placed a lingering kiss on her forehead. Suddenly everything around Spock exploded, and he felt as though he were flying. A few moments later, he was back at the forefront of her mind in her waking consciousness. The room was no longer empty. It was practically electrified with energy, a hundred thoughts exploding at once.

_Huh? What? Where am I?_

_Last night._

_Spock._

_OH SHIT._

_He's still asleep._

_If I move I'll wake him up._

_Shitshitshit._

_Wait. He's not asleep. He's…_

_NO. No no no no no no no no._

_He's in my head._

Spock broke the meld and opened his eyes. She was staring at him, her eyes wide.

"Forgive me," he said. "I was curious. I should not have done that."

"How much did you see?" she asked.

He hesitated. "I explored your mind quite… thoroughly," he finally answered.

She paled completely. Then she blushed. Spock found it oddly endearing.

"I was intrigued by what I saw," he said.

She smiled nervously. "Listen, about last night…"

"I am sorry," he said. "I hurt you. I am so sorry."

Bee made a quick analysis of her body. "They're just bruises," she said. "I feel fine. I… I feel incredible, actually. You don't have to be sorry." She averted her gaze and blushed once again. "You would have died, and I – I, uh…" She slowly looked back up at him and leaned slightly forward. He blinked once and waited for her to continue.

"Yes?" he said after a moment.

Her mouth opened slightly, and her eyes searched his face. "Commander Spock," she said after a moment, "I'm going to kiss you now."

-_-_-_

**A/N: Be happy and review! We'll post a contest winner next chapter!**


	26. Morning After

**Co-authored with the effervescent SailingAwaySoftly.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, but we're working on that.**

-_-_-_

Spock had no time to say anything before she leaned in completely and pressed her lips to his. They only lingered there for a moment before she pulled away, and Spock found that he regretted the loss of that contact. He reached out with one hand and cupped her face, slowly stroking his thumb across her cheek.

"What I saw in your mind," he said quietly, "surprised me. There were subtle moments when… But I never would have imagined…"

She studied him for a moment. It occurred to both of them that Spock rarely never finished a sentence.

"Let me see," she asked. "I want to see your mind."

He hesitated. He had encroached upon her privacy in the deepest, most intimate way – the mind was the only place where a person was truly alone, truly safe – so it was only natural that she would want to reciprocate. Much of his mind was very similar to hers, but there were some things… There had been Nyota…

It still hurt to remember. There had been a time when she had been all that mattered to him, but they had reached a certain point they could not surpass. There had been… a distinct difference that they had been unable to overcome. He knew she had not meant to, but Nyota had pressured him to defy his very nature. He could love. He could love a human. He could even express that love. But to regularly speak his mind, to divulge every detail of every fleeting emotion, to openly express everything he was feeling was something her could not, _would not_ do.

He knew that Bee was much more similar to him. She could understand and anticipate what was beneath his surface without having to drag it out of him. However, as unpleasant as those particular memories may be, he not only felt that he owed it to Bee to show her his mind, but he truly _wanted_ to. Because of the bond, he now understood her completely, and he wanted her to do the same.

"Yes," he said. "I will show you."

He placed his fingers on her temple, and their minds were one once again.

_I will guide you if you so desire,_ he thought to her in Vulcan. _But also explore as much as you like._

_I have found myself doing that more and more lately,_ she remarked.

_Doing what?_

_Thinking in Vulcan._

_I noticed when I was in your mind. It suits you._

He felt her laugh slightly. That was one thing he could not do. He did not regret this at all, but he realized that he had never really heard her laugh before. He liked the sound. It wasn't bursting or loud like Kirk's, or high-pitched and giggly like so many other human women. It was soft, amused.

Bee was fascinated with Spock's mind. She found herself in a huge domed room full of pools of water varying in size. They were glassy and still. The room was dark, the shadows only made less dim by a strange half-light emanating from one of the pools. She walked to the edge of it and gazed into its depths. She saw a sort of reflection of herself and her own mind there and realized that this was Spock's waking consciousness.

_They are like my doors_, she thought.

_Yes. While different in appearance, our minds are similar in organization._

She moved on to some of the other pools. She was particularly fascinated by his short-term memory. The scene from the night before was hazy at best for him, but she was still fascinated by his point of view.

_What do you see?_ he asked.

_Just myself,_ she replied. _It is not very clear. I do not feel specifics, just burning._

_I burned for you_.

Bee shuddered at that. It was the first real evidence that he actually reciprocated what she was feeling. Not that she hadn't had _plenty_ of physical evidence of those words the night before, but due to his previously seriously altered mental and emotional state, she hadn't allowed herself to think that he actually felt that way when he was himself.

She moved on. She saw his childhood memories, felt his secret and absolute adoration for his mother, his anger when others looked down upon her, his hate and pain when she was insulted. She saw memories of him at the Academy, of his days of teaching. There were memories of him on the _Enterprise_. And then there was Uhura.

She felt him cringe as she explored these memories. This woman who had captured his attention, who was beautiful and strong and just as intelligent as he, for some reason had separated from him. She felt his rage and pain and guilt and confusion when they'd found her dead. She saw the marked differences between the two of them that he had given as reasons for parting with her.

She thought to offer him consolation but decided against it. He did not want her to tell him that she was sorry, to verbally console him, to show him pity. He only wanted her to understand, and she did. She left his memory and continued on.

She was curious as to his perception and wondered if it were anything like hers. He guided her to the pool in question, and she gazed into it. Interested to see herself, she realized that it was not a complete mirror image. His perception left her somewhat altered. Her normally dull brown eyes were bright and burning. She was petite to begin with, but his perception particularly slenderized her. And she was also wearing the long-sleeved, dull yellow dress that was a female uniform instead of her usual black pants.

The emotion that accompanied this image was strange. She felt respect and interest and fascination, much the same as she felt for him. But that burning was there too, and it only further confirmed how he truly felt about her.

_A dress?_ she asked, decidedly avoiding the obvious question.

_That one time you wore it... _He had difficulty completing the thought. _I did not realize until now, but that is when the burning started deep within me. It was almost imperceptible at first, but it must have been what triggered the Pon Farr._

She tried to imagine Spock having indecent thoughts about her while they were in a working environment. She couldn't picture it.

Bee laughed again and continued to go in search of his subconscious. The domed ceiling did not close completely. There was a hole in the center about four feet in diameter. Through it, Bee could see a brilliant night sky, stars twinkling through the opening. There was a patch of light where they shone through, and she went and stood in the center of it, looking directly up.

Suddenly she was standing upside-down, a vast glassy lake mirroring the stars below her. She squeezed her eyes shut and drew in a shuddering breath.

_Relax,_ he told her. _Take one step forward. Remember, it is only in your mind._

Eyes still screwed shut, she did as he said. When she opened them, she was on the shore of the mirror like, and she realized it was the same one she had seen the night before. However, this time she stood tentatively on the edge of the water instead of diving in.

Her mental self took one small step forward and dipped her toe in. It was icy cold, and she quickly drew back.

_You must wade all the way in,_ he said.

She did not doubt him, and because he was now branded in her mind, this felt familiar to her. She waded into the icy water, shivering as she went deeper. It was generally dark, but the water was clear. The deeper she got, the more clearly she could feel him, his emotions, his essence. She finally submerged completely and was immediately met with an extremely forceful blow of grief. Rage and pain and loss suddenly wracked her body, and she screamed. Before she knew it, she was back to herself again.

She was trembling. Spock did not know quite how to react. Bee only pressed herself closer to him, willing his strength and control to calm her. He carefully wrapped his arms around her.

"Forgive me," he said quietly. "You should not have felt that."

"The genocide," she said, her voice low and shaky, "you still feel all that? All at once?"

"Acutely," he answered simply.

"Always?"

"Always."

The next few minutes passed in silence as Bee calmed down. Never had such violent and destructive emotions roiled around her and in her, and she needed a little while to recover. It was a part of him now, a part of every surviving Vulcan. It had been five years, but that did not matter. His pain was now hers, and she could only help him endure it.

Bee rested her head against his chest and had actually begun to feel drowsy again when she suddenly gasped and flung herself backwards a few feet. She landed in a heap on the floor.

Spock shot straight up. "What is it?" he asked.

"You – you have no heartbeat," she answered.

This seemed to amuse him, because the corners of his mouth turned upward slightly into what Bee knew was probably the most of a smile she was ever going to get out of him.

"For someone so gifted in the Vulcan language and culture, you certainly do not know much about our physiology, do you?"

"I certainly know a lot more now than most humans do," she countered.

He paused for a moment before continuing, for the innuendo caught him off guard.

"Vulcans' hearts are not found in the chest," he explained. "It is located in the right side, approximately where the human liver is found."

Bee laughed and then blushed, suddenly realizing how vulnerable she was sprawled on the floor. Spock noticed too, though he did not avert his gaze. He did not have to be ashamed to look at her.

Leaning over the side of the bed, he reached down and took her hand, pulling her back up beside him. Still holding onto her hand, he pressed her palm into his right side above his heart. Bee's eyes widened slightly as she felt his thrumming heartbeat beneath her fingers. It was faster than a human's. His skin was very warm, but it wasn't feverish as it had been the night before.

"Anything else I need to know?" she asked. "This seems like a good time to ask."

"No," he said simply.

She nodded. "I need a shower."

Standing to her feet, she crossed the room to the sanitary cubicle. The _Enterprise_ was one of the few ships in the fleet that had water for cleansing instead of just sonic showers, though they had those too. She was a little sore, but it was nothing she couldn't endure. She still felt a little tired, but she had a shift in an hour, though she new she was not expected to show up for it. She showered fast and efficiently. It left her feeling more awake, but it was only then that she was finished that she realized that she had no clothes to wear. Her uniform from the night before was no longer viable.

Temporarily stymied, Bee poked her head out and peered into the bedroom. Spock was no longer there, but she caught sight of a uniform on the bed. After drying herself off, she dressed and pulled on her boots. She noted that the sheets on the bed had been changed and it had been made up. Unsure of whether or not to wait for him, Bee was about to leave when he returned. In his uniform, his face back to its usual unreadable expression, he looked as though he were fully back in commander mode.

"I have a shift in a little while," she said to him.

"I know," he replied. "Before you go, however, I must speak with you."

Puzzled, she nodded and sat at the foot of the bed. He sat beside her and looked her straight in the eye.

"You were afraid last night," he stated. "I must apologize, because I do not think you realized what exactly you had agreed to, and –"

"Spock, I _do_ know exactly what I agreed to. You were _dying_. It was out of your control. I agreed to be your wife, to mentally and physically bond myself to you in order to prevent your death."

"Yes, but laying mutual attraction aside –"

"But that's my point! You could have asked any woman on this ship! You could have even returned to the colony and asked a Vulcan. But you asked me. Last night I was uncertain how much of it was you or if it was just your lack of control. But it all makes sense now, to me at least. There had to be _some_ deeper reason for you asking me."

"I told you when the burning began in me, when the very first signs of _plak tow_ showed," he said, "I had already subconsciously chosen you. However, regardless of your attraction to me, how _can_ you want _this_?"

"Because I wanted you."

He did not reply at first. Finally, he said, "That is different. You did not know everything that would be involved with that."

Bee averted her eyes and bit her tongue. She did not want to lose her temper with him, not now, not after last night. "Alright, maybe I didn't. But I've accepted it, haven't I? Spock, if you want somebody, you have to accept all of them, not just the parts you like."

This floored him. The very reason for him choosing her in the first had just been summarized in one sentence. She would accept him exactly as he was and not try to change him. That was why he had been unable to bond with Uhura. Oh, he had desperately wanted to. He had tried on numerous occasions to induce the release of the hormone through meditation and sheer mental willpower, but he had failed.

"You're surprised," Bee stated simply. "You've seen my mind. I don't have to explain to you my reasons for wanting you, for agreeing to this."

Again, there was that almost imperceptible upward turn of the corners of his mouth.

Bee faintly returned it, but she quickly became serious again. "So… about last night… was it… er, good?"

His eyebrows creased ever so slightly. "I am not sure I understand your meaning."

Bee decided not to beat around the bush. "The sex, I mean."

He raised one eyebrow. "Yes, from what I can clearly remember."

She was glad he gave a straightforward answer.

He seemed to hesitate. "And you?"

"Well, Spock, you rendered me unconscious. That's a fairly amazing sexual feat, I might add."

"Then I gather that it was, though I would prefer that in the future you did not experience such drastic sensory overload."

"In the future?"

The eyebrow went up again. "Pon Farr is not a singular event. Unless, of course, you wished to sever the bond. That would be… understandable."

"No! No, that's not what I meant, I… I have a shift."

She stood hastily and left before he could say another word.

-_-_-_

**A/N: Yes, we know we've been neglecting everyone else. Pon Farr is such a big deal that we had to do this. But you'll see some more of the others in the next chapter! REVIEW!**

**OH.**

**And LunarEclipse is our winner (WEWT WEWT)! They'll be contributing a little some'm' some'm' to the plot. :) **


	27. WHAT THE HELL

**Co-authored with the effervescent SailingAwaySoftly.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, but we're working on that.**

-_-_-_

How could he think that? After what had happened between them, after he'd _seen_ her mind, how could he think that she'd want to be separated from him? Be couldn't believe that _he_ would want that. And when she really thought about it, she knew that he was still trying to give her a chance at human normalcy.

_But I don't want human normalcy,_ she thought. _Not if it means giving him up_.

Bee tried not to think about it too much. She had a shift, and she wanted to go see Isla first. She was sore and still a little tired, and though she felt that she was perfectly fine, she wanted Isla to check just in case. She didn't want to be walking around with any broken bones she didn't know about.

"Morning," she said casually as she entered the sick bay.

"Hello." Isla gave her the once-over. "You look tired, Bee."

"I am, but that's not why I'm here."

Isla crossed her arms. "You sound serious. Something wrong?"

"Er, no… I just need a quick scan."

"Are you expecting that I'll find any injuries?"

"Not really, but I'm not one-hundred percent sure."

Raising an eyebrow in a quasi-Spock fashion, Isla took out her tricorder and set to work.

"Well," she said after a couple of minutes, "you've got some bruises, which I'm sure you already knew, but you're fine internally. No broken bones or anything."

"Alright then. Thanks. I have a shift."

She got up to leave, but her friend stopped her. "Bee, did something happen?"

She hesitated. She knew she could trust Isla, but she wasn't sure that she wanted to share this secret.

"Let me see the bruises. It's one thing to read a tricorder and another to see it for real."

Reluctantly, Bee took her seat again and drew her shirt over her head. Isla gasped.

"What the hell?! Bee, how did you get these?" She examined the ones on her arms. "These are handprints, and on your sides and hips too, and – IS THAT A _BITE MARK_ ON YOUR SHOULDER?!"

Bee rolled her eyes.

Isla immediately understood, and she grinned wickedly. "Bee, who on this starship did you find that is so obviously excellent in the sack and can I share him?"

Bee bristled. She knew that Isla was only joking, but for one tiny instant she found the question offensive.

"Hey, don't get all defensive. I was only kidding."

Bee sighed. "I know. Sorry."

"But seriously, who is he?"

She knew that Isla wouldn't leave her alone until she told her, so she gave up trying to keep it from her. "Isla, it's very complicated and extremely secret. Please promise me that you won't tell anyone."

"Oooh, sounds good. You know me, Bee. Of course I promise."

She drew in a deep breath. "It's Commander Spock."

-_-_-_

Isla's blinked. "No, seriously, who is it?"

Bee's eyes looked strangely pleading. "Really, it is Commander Spock."

"WHAT THE HELL, BEE."

"Shhh! I don't want anyone to hear."

"Uh, YEAH. Since when do you screw commanding officers?" Actually, she wanted to know since when Bee screwed anyone. She had been beginning to think her friend was almost asexual.

Bee sighed. "I told you, it's complicated. And I can't tell you everything because it isn't my secret to tell."

"You can't give me anything at all?" Isla begged. She wanted juicy details, particularly of the physical nature.

"Well, Spock's life depended on it."

"Wait, so he was supposed to have sex with you or die?"

"Erm… basically. It's a Vulcan thing, and that's really all I can tell you."

"Well, I obviously don't have to ask if it were good," said Isla. "But I wouldn't mind a few details."

Another eye roll. "No, Isla. I'm not telling you."

"What? Maybe I'll get lucky with Spock one day."

Bee loved her friend, she really did, but the strange new defensiveness was taxing her patience. She clenched her jaw. Isla raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, so this isn't a one-time thing, is it? Is there some sort of creepy Vulcan claim over you?"

"Well, I'm sort of… that is to say, I'm basically… I guess I'm his wife."

"WHAT?! Since when does a starship constitute as a deep space Las Vegas?!"

"Isla, it's not like that. Besides, it was more of a… necessity than anything else."

"Oh, so there's not really much between you?"

"I didn't say that."

"Oh, so there's _something_ between you?"

"Ugh, I wish people would stop saying that! Like it's just some sort of vague notion or concept! _Something_ isn't anything when it comes down to the emotional level! Why can't anyone understand that?"

"Whoa, Bee, don't get carried away. I didn't mean it like that."

She sighed. "I know. It's just… there's so much to take in, and I'm tired, and I'm not sure what to think…"

"Gods, Bee, you – you really care about him, don't you?"

-_-_-_

"Ugh, what a day," Isla said to herself as she plopped down in a chair. It was the end of her very long double shift, and she was ready to sleep. She still had a couple of charts to finish, but she had to give herself a breather before continuing.

"Why is that?" Bones asked, poking and prodding at something under a microscope.

"Oh, just Bee."

McCoy "hmm-ed" to show he'd heard her. "She and her brother still fighting?"

"I'm not sure. They haven't lately, but I don't know if they've made up or not."

"It's causing a lot of unnecessary tension. And Arlo's doing a pretty good job of watching that kid, if you ask me. 'Course, she's a good kid. She always does what she's told, and she doesn't get in people's way."

"I think she spends a lot of time with Tracey. She's trying to help Adele with her parents' deaths. It's hard to help a three year-old through that. And I think it's helping Tracey, too."

"Yeah. She and Arlo have seemed kind of… I dunno… close lately."

"Why Mac, I do believe you are attempting to participate in intrastarship gossip."

He shrugged. "Hey, it's just what I see. Now, do you mind finishing those charts? I need them."

She gave him a good once-over. Besides looking oddly attractive, he looked extremely tired. "Mac, you need to get some rest. Just what do you do when you're not on shift?"

"I worry about how you're running my sick bay," he said dryly.

"Don't be ridiculous. Don't you ever sleep?"

"When I'm not wondering whether or not I should get those unfinished charts done."

Isla scowled and returned her attention to her work. She knew exactly what he was saying, and yet she wished he would just answer plainly. It was annoying when no one would give a straight response. She knew he was the sort of person who couldn't sleep with work unfinished, that he considered it his personal duty to worry about everything that went on under his authority. He was definitely more of a "do-it-yourself" man.

She could also tell that he was probably so irritable all the time because he was being forced to go without any amount of alcohol. She didn't that he was a seriously heavy drinker or anything, but it was obvious that the occasional swig of whiskey kept him steadier. Of course, he knew better than she not to drink on the job, but she suspected that the prolonged suspension of this made it harder on him.

_Isla, stop your psychoanalysis and finish the damn chart. You want to sleep._

_Thanks, Brain._

-_-_-_

Arlo liked having Adele around. She really was no trouble at all. She had an extremely limited mixed vocabulary of French and English, so Arlo spent all the time her could spare teaching her English. Tracey helped too. She hadn't been busy lately, and she enjoyed helping Adele.

He felt guilty about Tracey. She was still very upset by Tom's death, but she said it was easier when she was with Arlo. He admitted to himself that he liked Tracey, but he hated feeling like a vulture swooping in for the rebound. Because it wasn't the rebound at all. It was a very serious tragedy that affected him just as much.

"Uncle Arlo, what's this?" Adele asked him, holding up a tricorder.

He smiled at her. If there was one thing he absolutely believed in, he believed in telling kids the truth, and that telling them the truth on their level wasn't the same as dumbing it down for them. Whenever Adele asked him a question, he always gave her a straightforward answer.

"This," he said, taking the small device from her, "is a tricorder. It scans stuff."

"'Scans?'"

"Erm… Sort of like an X-ray, but better. It tells what's inside something and what it's made of."

"Scan me! Scan me!" she cried.

Arlo decided that he had a few minutes to spare. She'd been good the whole day, and he'd already done most of his work.

"Alright, stand still."

Adele grinned and giggled as she tried to remain still. Arlo showed her the little monitor.

"See? You're healthy. You're made of Carbon and water, and there's your heart rate and blood pressure and oxygen levels. Hmm," he said after a moment, "I think you're sugar levels are a bit high. Has Scotty been giving you candy?"

She vigorously shook her head, but she was laughing guiltily. "NO!"

"Uh-huh."

"Aw, c'mon, lad. That's what you're supposed to do with kids – spoil 'em!"

Arlo rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Well, I guess I have to be the adult and put my foot down. Try to keep the sugar to minimum."

"Aye, laddie, whatever you say. D'ya mind if I take her for a little while? My shift is over, and you need to finish up."

Arlo chuckled and nodded. "Just don't bring her back all hyped up!"

-_-_-_

Bee thought she was going to die on the bridge. The fact that she had showed up in one piece for her shift wasn't enough for Kirk. He was boring holes in the back of her head. She felt Spock's eyes on her sometimes too, though not often, and his gaze had a feeling of forced casualness to it. After their unfinished discussion this morning, she knew he'd want to talk with her, but she didn't want to face him. Kirk had questions that she couldn't bring herself to answer. She just wanted to get out.

As soon as her shift was over, she slipped off the bridge before she could get herself cornered. Spock followed, but she closed the lift before he could reach her. She felt a little bad about it, but she was just too confused about what she was feeling to face him.

Instead of going to her quarters, she went to Engineering. She found Arlo working busily and steadily; she envied him for his productivity.

"Hey," she said, walking up to him.

He looked up. "Hey yourself. What's up?"

She shrugged. "I just got off shift. I'm tired, so I'm going to go sleep a while."

He frowned slightly. "Bee, are you okay? You seem a little out of it."

She smiled weakly. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking a lot lately."

"About what?"

She could tell Arlo. He'd be furious. He'd feel it was his brotherly duty to confront Spock. He wouldn't understand, and he'd say something stupid. So that was a no. But she wanted him to know. She didn't like keeping him in the dark, especially when Isla and Kirk knew. She decided on a compromise. "Just… relationship problems."

He raised his eyebrows. "Really? I'm not sure I want to hear about this…"

That was the response she was hoping she'd get. "Hey, you can't talk. What about Tracey?"

"That's different!" He laughed.

"How do you know?"

"Just let me know if I need to beat someone up."

"Ha, I will."

Feeling better, she left Arlo to his work and returned to her quarters. She hoped to sleep easily, but she was not granted that luxury.

-_-_-_

_Apprehension. Anxiety. Fear. She couldn't do this. He would break her, she wouldn't be strong enough._

_But then there was only his body against her, his flushed skin tinged green, and then sensations she'd never thought she'd be capable of experiencing. That any human being could experience._

_She wanted it again. And she wanted a lot more._

-_-_-_

Bee woke with a start. She had a feeling that she couldn't be getting any sleep for a while.

-_-_-_

Kirk was worried about Bee. She seemed okay, physically at least, but he had no idea what had happened the night before. Spock seemed to strain to seem normal, so he didn't want to push that just yet. He told himself that they just needed time. Meanwhile, he had a starship to run.

They'd been able to lock on very briefly to what they were able to identify as the rogue Klingon ship, but their enemy evaded them quickly. Kirk and his crew were going to have to get creative before they went in guns blazing.

-_-_-_

**A/N: There ya go. Told ya there'd be more of everyone else in this chapter. There will be more Bee/Spock-ness in the next chapter. REVIEW. Toodles.**


	28. Doctor's Orders

**Co-authored with the effervescent SailingAwaySoftly.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, but we're working on that.**

-_-_-_

A couple of weeks later, Bee found herself in the sick bay again because she hadn't been feeling like herself. She'd been terse with people, more prone to irritation, and just generally flustered. She wondered if she were sick or had some sort of fever. Whatever it was, she wanted it to stop, so she consented to a much-hated physical from Isla.

"Bee, here's the deal," said Isla seriously.

Her stomach clenched. "Oh, gods, what is it?"

"Now, don't get yourself worked up."

"Yeah, because that's something I'd do."

"Hey, I'm the doctor here."

"Fine then. What's wrong with me?"

"Other than the fact that you've been distracted lately and a bit snippy with everyone, and that you've been drinking water like a fish?"

Well, that was no shock. Bee always felt an almost compulsive need to drink more water when she was feverish. So what? "Okay, so I'm hot. I have a little fever. Am I sick?"

"No, you're not." Isla's face transformed into a smirk. "The results of your blood test show that you have slightly raised hormone levels."

"So? What does that mean?" Bee was a little confused. What did it matter?

"Basically, Bee, you're horny."

Her mouth dropped open. "That's not a diagnosis!"

Isla snorted. "Yeah, it is. So, how often do you and Spock have sex?"

"Really, Isla." Bee crossed her arms and glared at her friend.

"Fine, I don't need to know. All I'm saying is that it's not enough for you, apparently." Isla grinned at her. "But seriously, how often?"

Bee averted her gaze. "Just the once, actually."

"No, seriously? It was _that_ bad?"

"No! It wasn't, and I… You know what? I really don't want to discuss this with you."

"Well, whatever you do, just get Spock back in bed before you get crankier."

"It's not that easy. I can't just walk up to him and ask him to have sex," said Bee. She really did not want to be having this conversation.

"Well, sure you can! You're his wife, aren't you?"

"Yeah. Sort of. But it's different."

"Is this that Vulcan thing that you are remaining stubbornly tight-lipped about?"

"Yes."

"Fine. You know, Bee, if you want to give Spock a little encouragement, you should wear a proper female uniform again."

Bee rolled her eyes. Of course, _she_ knew that was what had triggered the whole Pon Farr ordeal in the first place, but she wasn't about to tell Isla that. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Who's being ridiculous? I may not be in on your whole super-secret, not-to-be-discussed Vulcan mating rituals, but I do have a pair of eyes, and I occasionally make useful observations with them. Like, for instance, that you and Spock had a purely platonic relationship up until the time when you wore that uniform. A few days later, you've slept with him and for all intents and purposes become his wife. Now don't you bloody sit there and tell me that it all has _absolutely nothing_ to do with the fact that it all started the first time Spock saw your luscious, lanky leggies."

-_-_-_

Bee wasn't stupid enough to deny that Isla was right, but that didn't help her situation. She was tired of her mind wandering to Spock during a slow shift, or worse, her dreams where she definitely couldn't escape it. She sighed as she took her place on the bridge. Spock wasn't there yet. It didn't matter though, because there was no way she could confront him about it.

It had been almost three weeks since the bonding. Three torturously celibate weeks, in Bee's opinion. She didn't want to wait another seven years. She didn't think she was physically capable of doing that. But how could she tell Spock? It wasn't as though she could just walk up to him and ask him for sex (although she realized that he had essentially done the same thing). Once they'd gotten over the initial awkwardness of their situation, they'd had no trouble in being around each other. Work had just been incredibly busy.

She focused intently on the controls in front of her, because James Kirk's eyes were drilling into the back of her head.

-_-_-_

Bee may have been too stubborn about her situation, but that didn't mean Isla couldn't intervene for her. She called Spock to the medical bay a little while after Bee had gone back on shift to confront him about the problem.

"Yes, doctor?" he asked her in his usual impassive way.

"Commander Spock, are you aware of the slight change in Bee's behavior recently?" she asked him.

"I have noticed that she seems to be a little on edge. Is something wrong with her?" he asked. Isla thought she detected a hint of concern in his voice.

"Her blood test showed that she has a slightly raised hormone level. Nothing serious."

"I see. But why did you call me here?"

"Because even Vulcan men are apparently blind when it comes to women, so I'm giving you doctor's orders to have sex with your wife."

-_-_-_

Spock pondered this on his way back to the bridge. He had initially doubted Isla, but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Bee was not the sort of person to impose her wants (or needs, for that matter) upon someone if she thought it would inconvenience them. But she was also so very human. Regular sexual activity was considered healthy among humans, so it was only logical that she should have a need for sex.

He also considered his own situation. He was half human, but still so overwhelmingly Vulcan. He supposed Vulcans could have sex whenever they wanted, they just did not. It was not logical. Copulation was meant for reproduction, but Pon Farr dictated the necessity of that. But Spock _did_ want it. He found himself entertaining the thought far more than he would have liked. It was extremely distracting.

Kirk greeted him when he entered the bridge, and Bee turned to glance at him. He caught her eye, and after a moment she mouthed to him, "I'm going to kill her."

He raised an eyebrow then turned his attention to his control board. It had been three weeks, but they had both been so busy that they had barely had time to talk. And they needed to talk.

-_-_-_

The rest of her shift passed quietly, though Isla's blatant revelation and Spock's presence weren't much help to her. Glad to be done with her work, Bee left and headed straight for her quarters. She collapsed onto her bed for a much needed nap. Bee was unable to sleep for a while, but she eventually began to feel drowsy. However, just as soon as she was beginning to drift off, there was a knock.

She sat up. "Come in."

Spock entered.

"Commander," she said, standing.

"Ensign."

"I swear, I'm going to bloody crucify Isla."

"I would rather you did not do that. It would upset you."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know."

Bee sighed and sat back down on her bed. "I'm sorry. I can't control what I think. And I'm tired, because I'm getting _zero_ rest, no thanks to you."

"I should have known," he said. "We have already made the mistake once of underestimating each other's feelings. We can sense each other through the bond between our minds, and I should have realized that I was feeling your emotions in addition to my own. I should have known that you mirrored my desires."

"Why, Spock, I believe you have just said something utterly human," she remarked.

The corner of his mouth curved almost imperceptibly upwards. "Vulcans are not guided by their emotions. They are so powerful that they must be carefully controlled. Humans, however, are creatures of whim. They do whatever they feel whenever they feel it, although you possess a very inhuman control which is only made stronger by your surprisingly Vulcan-like mind. However, from my time among humans, I have come to realize that understanding another's emotions and sometimes acting upon it is necessary."

"I hate to say this, but if you're trying to tell me that you've been wanting sex just as much as I have the past three weeks, then I'm going to have to tell you that I don't quite believe you."

"Then I must inform you that while Vulcans may entertain the notion of sexual intercourse, they dismiss it because it is simply not logical. Giving into a physical want out of mere desire for it is… selfish to us. There is no necessity in it. However, that does not mean that Vulcans, specifically myself, are incapable of copulation outside of Pon Farr."

Bee hated that word. It sounded so medical, as though they were speaking about healthy cholesterol levels. However, she mentally noted that this was probably the most Spock had ever discussed sex with anyone. She knew that sex was probably the ultimate taboo in Vulcan society. It wasn't spoken of. Individuals in the throes of Pon Farr were respectfully ignored, and then acted as though nothing had happened when it was over (well, Spock hadn't exactly done that).

"So," she said, "now that's _all_ cleared up…" She placed her hands on his shoulders and pulled herself up against him so that she was effectively straddling him. He automatically rested his hands on her hips but otherwise remained still. Bee pressed her lips to his and ran her fingers of one hand through his hair and with the other traced the shell of his ear from lobe to pointed tip. Spock suddenly emitted a low growl and applied a considerable amount of pressure to her hips, pulling her closer to him.

Bee smiled into his lips and laughed softly. "Interesting that such a little thing should elicit such… _alacrity_ from you, Spock," she whispered before paying the same small attention to his other ear.

-_-_-_

Isla hadn't expected her orders to be carried so soon nor, indeed, in the quarters she shared with Bee. Luckily, she hadn't walked in on anything graphic. It was after the fact, and Bee was asleep. That was probably best, since she would most likely have had a heart attack had she been awake. Spock, however, was fully conscious, and Isla had never expected to see him in such a state of… undress. Oh, everything that needed to be covered was covered, but still, to see the Vulcan bare-chested was downright strange.

Even stranger was the look on his face. Or rather, the look in his eyes, for his face was as stoic as ever. He didn't say anything to her, but his eyes were burning, protective, _possessive_. He was holding the sleeping Bee in his arms and clearly enjoying every blissfully peaceful second of it, so Isla merely nodded to him and made herself scarce.

-_-_-_

**A/N: More action is coming soon, we promise. (The Klingon sort of action, not "action" action). Anywho, REVIEW, PLEASE.**


	29. Theory

**Co-authored with the effervescent SailingAwaySoftly.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, but we're working on that.**

-_-_-_

Bee woke the next morning alone. The loss of Spock's body next to hers was so pronounced that she physically ached. She groaned into her pillow and sighed. Well, it had been good while it lasted. She attempted to calculate her chances of getting him back into bed within the next twenty-four hour period. Zero to none.

However, when she rolled over onto her side, Bee was surprised to find that she wasn't so alone after all. Spock was no longer in the bed with her, but he hadn't left her quarters. He had dressed, and was reading over a data pad at the desk. He turned his head when he realized that she was awake, and looked at her. The curiosity didn't show on his face, but she could feel it just the same. Wait, she could _feel_ his curiosity?

"You are disturbed," he stated simply.

"And _you're_ curious. Spock, I can _feel_ you!" she said.

The left corner of his mouth twitched ever so slightly upwards. "Yes, that is was a mental bond entails."

She smirked back. "There's no need to be sarcastic." But her sense of humor allowed her to appreciate it all the same. "So, can I hear your thoughts? Why is this just starting now? It's been three weeks."

He considered his answer a moment before replying. "Normally, the mental bond allows for the exchange of thoughts, however, since you are human and I am half-human, I do not know how this will affect us. As to your other question, I do not know for certain, but I have a theory."

She imitated his raised eyebrow. "And that theory would be…"

"It seems as though the link between our minds strengthens with physical bonding," he replied.

"You mean sex," she said.

He nodded.

Well, _that_ was interesting. Bee was all for more sex, but she knew that Spock wouldn't want it nearly as often as she would. However, she was pretty sure he wouldn't make her wait three weeks again either. And the emotional bond would be useful too, as far as judging when he would most likely give into her.

She looked at him for a minute, trying to gauge his mood again. She could only faintly feel him; he was still curious – he was mostly trying to see how she felt about the whole situation.

"I take it that you are not wholly opposed to my theory," he said.

_I'm wholly in favor of it, genius,_ she thought sarcastically. Well, there was no use in beating around the bush. "Personally, I'd like to test it," she said.

The eyebrow inevitably went up. "We both have a shift in approximately one hour, twenty-three minutes, and eighteen seconds," he said.

Alright, so that was a no. "Well, in that case, do you mind? I need to shower and get dressed."

Spock stood. "You are disappointed."

She smiled a little. "Don't worry about it, Spock."

But he made no further move to leave. "You want this badly."

She really did, but not if Spock didn't. "I understand that you don't act on your personal desires," she said. "I won't ask you to change yourself."

He walked over to the bed and sat beside her. "We have already discussed this. Compromise is necessary." He reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, purposefully brushing his fingers against her temple in the process.

Bee shuddered as his understanding, affection, and even lust flashed through her mind. She knew that his emotions were, in fact, much stronger than hers, he was just immensely good at controlling them. While the past three weeks had been severely lacking in sex, Spock hadn't been ignoring her. They frequently shared meals together, and they talked often as well. They had agreed to keep their relationship a secret – Kirk had suggested that the _Enterprise_ just wasn't quite ready for that yet. Most of the crew viewed Spock as calculating and logical – which was entirely true – and Bee had quickly gained a similar reputation for her cool disposition.

However, they had certainly had their moments, brief yet searing moments of physical contact. For instance, she would hand him a data pad, and his fingers would brush against hers slightly. This simple contact would give Bee brief flashes of what he was feeling. She had been surprised at just how possessive he was of her, but there was tenderness also. He wanted her to be aware of how he felt towards her, as well as wanting to know to what extent she reciprocated. She had asked him to explain this once.

"_Is that how you show emotions?" she asked._

_He shook his head. "The fingertips are by far the most sensitive parts of the Vulcan physiology," he explained. "The slightest brush of the palm or temple produces a low-level psychic connection. That is why Vulcans avoid physical contact, especially with humans. It is… annoying to be constantly bombarded with fleeting emotions."_

"_But humans are usually so expressive about what they're feeling anyway," Bee said._

"_My point exactly. We do not need to see into their minds. You however," he said, raising his eyebrow only slightly, "are different." There was that faint ghost of a smile again, and a peculiar but not altogether unpleasant humming sensation coursed through her._

It made her heart and body sing to know that being different was what drew him. She fascinated him, and though she didn't completely understand why, she knew that he was completely and irrevocably hers. Again, she had asked for an explanation.

"_Why me?" she asked one day over breakfast._

_There was a slight narrowing of the eyes to show his puzzlement. "I do not understand the question."_

"_Why did you choose me?"_

_He sighed. "As I have said before, I did not choose you. Not consciously, at least. My body needed yours."_

_Bee was unconvinced. Her body was slight and petite. If he were alluding to children, she was physically very unqualified to be a mother. If he were merely referring to sex, then she was equally inadequate. She was plain, pale, and small, her five-foot six-inch frame almost child-like next to all six feet and two inches of Spock. She was lucky to reach his shoulders._

"_Well, your body or mind or whatever apparently had other reasons for choosing me," she declared._

_Cue eyebrow. "Ensign Bell, I am under the distinct impression that you think rather little of yourself."_

"_Well, everyone has something about them that they don't like," Bee said. "I suppose you've wondered why I don't wear a woman's uniform – well, I don't see the point. I'm far more comfortable dressed as I am, and the dress really does nothing for me."_

_Spock almost looked as though he were in disbelief. "If you remember correctly, ensign, a woman's uniform is what started all of this."_

"_Triggered, maybe, like a catalyst, but not started it. Come on then, what are your reasons, Spock?"_

_He considered his answer a moment. "You are highly intelligent, but there is far more than that. You have… understanding. You understand who I am, what I am. You would never ask me to change, because you would despise me if I asked that of you. We are truly similar, you and I."_

_She nodded. "Alright, I suppose that is as good a reason as any."_

_The corners of his mouth lightened a bit. "As for your physical self-doubts, ensign… I must confess that I am pleased that you do not wear a woman's uniform."_

"_And why is that?"_

"_Because you attract more male attention than you realize, and I have found myself lately experiencing the very human emotion of jealousy. It is foreign to me, and highly unpleasant. Due to my lack of experience with it, I may act in a highly irrational manner, and we cannot have that, can we?"_

Bee smiled at the memory. Her jaw had literally dropped at such a blatant and unexpectedly successful attempt at humor. While Spock may never have joked on Vulcan, his time among humans had given him an excellent and subtle sense of humor, even though he very rarely expressed it. She almost laughed aloud.

"What do you find amusing?" he asked.

"Spock, how much time do we have left before out shift?" she asked, turning to face him fully.

"Approximately one hour, nineteen minutes, and four seconds," promptly replied.

"Remind me to tell you later."

Spock immediately understood.

-_-_-_

Bee was rather pleased with herself that Spock hadn't needed much convincing. She was even more pleased when he almost instantly took control. She knew that this was nothing like Pon Farr, for he was still very much his own master, but the fact that he had chosen this somehow made it ten times better.

Since Bee had slept late, she was still without the hindrance of clothing. Spock, on the other hand, was fully clothed, including boots. He ridded himself of his shirt, but didn't undress further. Bee was momentarily too distracted by his torso to notice this.

For a man who lived and breathed logic, Spock was in extremely good shape, most likely because the best way to have a well-disciplined mind was to have an equally well-disciplined body. He wasn't bulky at all, but instead lean and lithe. His shoulders were broad, but coupled with his sinewy body and aquiline features made him rather angular. His skin was warmer than hers, and though he looked light, he was actually heavy. Bee remembered him telling her at some point that Vulcans had denser body mass than humans. He was careful to keep his full weight off her, however, and was at all times extremely aware of her.

Bee, now on her back underneath him, leaned up to try to kiss him, but he turned slightly away.

"Be still," he said quietly. It did not exactly sound like a command, but Bee knew better than to question his request. She had survived Pon Farr, so she trusted him.

Spock was a singular, however exceptional, lover, at least by human standards (not that Bee had much experience either human or otherwise for comparison). Ever the scientist, he wished to explore. Disallowing her to move, he studied every inch of her body with only his fingertips, pausing now and again when his touch elicited a stronger response, as though to file it away as important information.

After the first several minutes, Bee wasn't so sure she could take much more. She wanted to cry out to him, to reach out and touch and explore just as he was doing, but she did her best to maintain control. It was only when he leaned forward and kissed her that she felt it was alright to touch him. Her fingers went almost automatically to his ears. She had a strange fascination with them, and he responded by pulling her closer to him.

Bee wasn't sure when he lost the rest of his clothes, but she was fast approaching the realm of incoherent thought. It was all just so mind-bendingly good. Spock apparently thought so too, though he was voicing her mental incoherency with unintelligible streams of Vulcan. Bee did catch one or two words, however, and later she would be amazed that she would ever hear such a thing coming from Spock's mouth.

They moved smoothly together. Even without a mind meld, Bee could still sense him through their bond as it strengthened. It was a very strange feeling to have the dual sensations. Spock possessed a beautiful fluidity that belied his strength and the raging emotions inside him. Bee felt as though she were drowning in him. It seemed like forever before they reached a fever pitch and it suddenly ended, leaving Bee panting and trembling from the aftershocks. Spock rolled to the side, once again holding her in his arms.

"How long?" she asked, still a little breathless.

"Thirty-four minutes, and fifty-three seconds," he replied. His voice was still a little rough.

She sighed. She really felt as though she could sleep for another two hours, but she knew that she'd never get away with it. If she were lucky, she'd get to lie still for a few minutes and at least revel a bit.

"Are you alright?" he asked quietly. He'd completely regained his composure.

"Yeah, just give me a few minutes."

"You are tired," he stated.

"Nah, just a bit out of breath." She smiled up at him. "I must say, Spock, you're pretty amazing."

She was rewarded with one of his rare half-smiles, so she couldn't resist leaning up and kissing him. He responded at first, but when she reached up to stroke his ears, he pulled back.

"Ensign, we have thirty-two minutes, and forty-four seconds until our shift," he said calmly as he gently took hold of her wrists and pulled her hands away from his ears.

She sighed again and slumped against him. "Fine," she said, feigning annoyance. She pushed herself away from him, standing to go take a shower. However, she took about five steps then faltered, falling at a bad angle. She swore as she braced herself for the floor, but she never made contact. Spock had caught her, and he was now holding her against his chest.

"Wow, that was weird, eh?" she said with a small laugh.

"Ensign, I do not believe you are well," he said.

"I'm fine, Spock. I was just a little unbalanced. Your fault, I might add."

Spock looked thoroughly unconvinced, but he didn't stop her when she stood again.

"Really, I'm fine. How long do we have?"

"Twenty-eight minutes, and twelve seconds."

"Better hurry, then."

-_-_-_

It didn't take Bee long to shower, but when she was done, Spock was gone. She dressed quickly and made to leave for the bridge, but her comm beeped.

"Sick bay to Ensign Bell."

"Hey, Isla, what is it?" she asked. "I have a shift in a few minutes."

"Yeah, I know. Spock called down here a couple of minutes ago and requested that you be called in. It's alright if you're late."

Bee rolled her eyes. "Ugh, he's taking this too seriously."

"Taking what too seriously? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine! I was a little dizzy this morning, but considering –"

"Ah, no! I don't want to hear what you're about to say! La, la, la, not listening!"

"Hey, you still owe me for our first day at the Academy."

-_-_-_

Unwillingly, Bee made her way to the sick bay. She was extremely annoyed with Spock, but she'd gotten more out of him the past twelve hours than she could have hoped for, so she decided she'd humor him.

"Hey, Bee," Isla said brightly as her friend entered.

"Hullo."

"Ah, he only wants to make sure you're okay."

"Well, I am."

"Good, so you have nothing to worry about."

Bee hated physicals. She didn't like being under the scrutiny, even if it was just Isla.

"Lie on your back."

Bee sat on the exam table and complied. The little whirring sound of the tricorder really annoyed her. Isla went over every inch of her body, but she stopped over Bee's lower abdomen, raising one eyebrow in a surprisingly Spock-like fashion.

"What?" she asked Isla, irritated that she was going to be even later for her shift.

"Bee, you're pregnant."

-_-_-_

**A/N: OHSNAP. C'mon, youz guyz HAD to see that one coming. No? Alright, fine. The flashbacks are there because, let's face it, filler chapters are B-O-R-I-N-G. We'll try not to go all after-school-special on you, but who DOESN'T love the idea of a pointy-eared baby?! Also, don't go all technical on us about Isla not diagnosing Bee as pregnant sooner, blah, blah, blah, because we'll just deny everything and throw it back in your face. Don't make us go ninja on you. REVIEW.**


	30. One Hurdle at a Time

**Co-authored with the effervescent SailingAwaySoftly.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, but we're working on that.**

-_-_-_

"WHAT?!" Bee shouted, sitting straight up. "That can't be right!"

Isla handed her the monitor. Bee wasn't a doctor, but even she could understand a tricorder reading. She was three weeks along, according to the little screen.

She literally could not speak. She was not even able to think straight. Isla was saying something, but she didn't hear her.

"…HELLO?! Bee, are you listening?"

Her head snapped up. She still didn't know what to say.

"What's going on over here?" McCoy asked, walking over to see what had happened.

"Bee's pregnant, Mac," Isla said.

McCoy's jaw dropped. "WITH WHOSE BABY?!" he demanded. She visited Isla a lot in the sick bay, and she had grown on him. He hadn't even known she was with anyone.

Bee groaned. "He doesn't know?" she finally said.

Isla shook her head. "Just me and Kirk," she replied. "I thought you were keeping it a secret."

Bee sighed. They _were_ keeping it a secret for now. She didn't know why she had thought McCoy knew. She supposed she had expected either Kirk or Isla or both to tell him. Apparently, she had been wrong.

"I don't get it!" Bee said. "We haven't… I mean, it's not like we –"

"Bee, you can get pregnant _any_ time you have sex, even the first time, which is apparently what happened here," Isla said.

Bee glared at her. "Thanks, Mum."

"Whose is it?" Bones repeated. He had a sneaking suspicion that he really didn't want to know the answer.

Bee liked Leonard McCoy, she really did, but she realized that she just couldn't handle his reaction at this point. He would be shocked, yes, but he would also be irritated, grumpy, and generally unpleasant. She shook her head.

He rolled his eyes. "Look, Bell, you're not going to be able to protect his honor for very long, whoever he is," he said.

She turned to Isla. "I need to talk to the captain," she said.

Isla nodded, and Bones huffed.

"I'll have it out of him anyway!" he said as he went back to whatever he had been doing.

Isla went over to the comm and called the bridge.

"Sick bay to Captain Kirk," she said.

His voice came through a moment later. "What is it, Dr. Knight?" he asked.

"You're needed down here, sir."

"Alright, Isla, I'm on my way."

-_-_-_

Jim arrived a few minutes later. "What's going on?" he asked. Then he caught sight of Bee. "Hey, are you alright? Spock said you'd be a few minutes late."

Isla looked between the two. "I'll just leave you to it then." She left them alone.

"What's this all about, Bee?" he asked.

She took a deep breath. "Captain, I'm pregnant."

Kirk's eyes grew to about twice their normal size. "No _shit_?"

Bee couldn't help but laugh a little. "I'm afraid so."

"How many times have you two actually done it?"

Bee rolled her eyes. "None of your business. Besides, it happened the first time."

Kirk couldn't stop himself from laughing. "WOW. What are the odds of that?"

"I'm sure Spock could tell you."

"I'm sure he could." His smile faded a bit. "But why are you telling me and not him?"

"Because I'm not sure what to do, captain."

"Jim."

She sighed. "Jim. I can't hide this for very long, and I… I'm afraid of what he'll think."

"Well, I have to admit 'father' is probably the last word anyone who's ever known him up to this point would apply to Spock, but you have to tell him. And it really should be sooner rather than later."

"I know, I know. I will. I'm just – still in shock. And I'm scared." She swallowed hard and sucked in a breath. It was the most emotional he had ever seen her apart from the one incident on the bridge.

Kirk wasn't exactly sure what to do. She had admitted that she was frightened, and she was obviously confused, so he could think of nothing else to do but to hug her. It didn't last long, but it seemed to help. He was her friend, and he was the one who had convinced her to be with Spock, so he naturally wanted to be there for her.

"Thanks, Jim," she said, giving him a small smile.

"No problem. You can have the rest of the day off to think if you want."

"Really? Thanks. That would be… amazing, actually."

Bee knew she would think on it plenty, but she really just needed to sleep. Spock had, quite honestly, tired her out, and then being pregnant was certainly overwhelming… She needed to shut down for a few hours before returning to reality.

-_-_-_

Bones wasn't the sort of guy who eavesdropped, and although he really wanted to know what Bee was talking to Jim about, he didn't overhear. However, for a moment he almost suspected Jim of being the father, but then he realized that even his still not-so-slightly reckless best friend wasn't that stupid.

He really hadn't taken Bee to be that sort of woman, but Isla _was_ her best friend. He stopped thinking about the situation, however, when the comm beeped.

"Bridge to sick bay," he heard Spock say.

"Yes, what is it, Spock?" he asked.

"Lieutenant Sulu is exhibiting… slightly severe symptoms indicative of a virus affecting the stomach –"

"Alright, alright, send him down here."

It turned out that Sulu was in such a bad state that Spock had to actually assist him in getting to the medical bay. The Asian man slumped gratefully onto a bed. He looked slightly green and was partially incoherent. McCoy scanned him. He swore.

"Dammit, Sulu, I'm not sure what you've got or how you got it, but you are in for a hell of a next couple of days, that's for sure," he told the lieutenant. Sulu responded by groaning, vomiting, then groaning again.

"Will he be alright, Bones?" Kirk asked, walking up to his friend.

"I think so. It's some sort of virus, so the most I can do is make him as comfortable as possible until his system gets rid of it. He's got a low grade fever, so I'll give him something for that. I'd count on him not being fit for duty for the next four or five days."

Isla was already helping Sulu. She'd given him a shot of some sort and was entering his chart information into her data pad. Jim noticed his friend smile slightly at the other doctor. Interesting.

"Well, we don't have a replacement for him – our other pilot transferred when we returned to Earth a few weeks ago," he said.

"What about Chekov?" McCoy asked.

"As a navigations officer, Mr. Chekov does have seniority, however, he has not been fully trained as a pilot, and is therefore unqualified," Spock responded.

Kirk turned to Bee. "Bell, you're a pilot, aren't you?"

"I've received my full training, sir, but I'm not an officer," she reminded him.

Kirk smiled. "Well, then, we'll just have to promote you, won't we?"

Bee had really been counting on being unconscious for the next few hours, but she was needed, and she had been hoping for a promotion soon anyway.

"Yes, sir."

"Now hang on a minute," said Isla. "I haven't cleared Bee yet." She and McCoy exchanged a look, as did Jim and Bee.

Fortunately, Sulu interrupted the awkward silence by groaning very loudly and vomiting again. Bones and Isla turned to help him, and Kirk, Spock, and Bee retreated to the other end of the sick bay.

"I need to get back to the bridge," said Jim, and he left.

Bee didn't look at Spock. She could feel his concern, but she was very afraid that he would be angry or upset.

"What distresses you?" he asked, keeping his voice low.

She didn't answer him. She'd forgotten how to speak again.

He lifted a hand and caught hold of her chin, gently forcing her face upwards to look at him.

"Please, tell me," he said.

She had to. His face was as expressionless as ever, but his eyes were full of concern and understanding.

"Spock, I'm pregnant."

He dropped his fingers from her chin and clasped his hands behind his back. The statement hung in the air between them.

Bee searched his face, but it was impassive as usual. She held his gaze, silently begging him not to be angry, or worse – cold and indifferent.

And he wasn't. He was surprised, certainly, and curious as well, and there was something else that she couldn't quite place her finger on. It wasn't exactly happiness, but he wasn't angry. Then there was worry, so much that it was almost overwhelming.

"Are you pleased?" he asked her quietly.

She blinked a few times. "Honestly, I don't know what I am. Ask me again when the shock wears off, if it ever does."

"You are frightened," he said.

She nodded. They were both worried. Bee had never really expected to be a mother. In fact, she hadn't even expected to be a wife. Whatever the case, she had now been thrown into both roles, and she seriously doubted her capabilities to succeed at either. Well, mostly just being a mother. As a wife, she was very deeply connected to Spock on so many different levels that she suspected that she might really and truly love him.

Spock must have noticed her realization, because he took a step closer to her, bringing one hand up to stroke her cheek with his thumb. Through their bond, she could feel that he reciprocated. The contact lasted only a moment, but Bee somehow felt stronger because of it. He dropped his hand.

"We should return to the bridge, lieutenant."

-_-_-_

McCoy seriously considered slapping himself when he saw what had just happened between Bee and Spock. He had kept an eye on them while tending to Sulu, curious as to what was going on. What he saw left no doubt in his mind as to who the father of Bee's child was.

"It's _Spock_?!" he asked Isla.

"Shhh!" she said. "Don't let anyone hear you."

"I'm pretty sure people will start to notice that she's pregnant after a while," he said with not a little sarcasm.

"No shit, Mac," said Isla. "But everyone doesn't have to know about her and Spock, do they?"

"And when the kid is born?"

"One hurdle at a time, Mac."

He rolled his eyes but smiled a little. He wasn't going to let Spock live this down for quite a while.

Spock and Bee were leaving, but Isla held her friend back for a minute.

"Look, come back after your shift. I need to fill you in, alright?"

Bee sighed but nodded. It was going to be a long day.

-_-_-_

Bones was getting annoyed with Sulu. It seemed a common enough stomach flu, but his symptoms were about twice as bad. He took a blood sample and set about analyzing it, glad to have something to concentrate good and long on. He'd been distracted by Isla far too much lately.

She could be a royal pain in the ass at times, but she really was a good doctor, and she had made a definite effort to keep her place when it was needed. That didn't mean the banter didn't stop. But they respected each other now, and they had formed a sort of camaraderie that made (frequent) moments of stubbornness easier to negotiate.

And he had to admit, Isla was beautiful. To be completely honest, she was hot. Bones hadn't had much in the way of relationships since his divorce, and he'd found his eyes on Isla's body a lot lately. He shook his head in an effort to rid his mind of these thoughts and tried to focus on Sulu's blood. This worked for about thirty seconds until Isla walked by him and flicked him on the shoulder.

"Don't concentrate so hard, Mac, you'll blow a blood vessel."

-_-_-_

**A/N: Yay. Okay, more Klingon plot development in the next chapter, and Isla/Bones action coming, promise. It just has to build a little more. REVIEW, PLEASE.**


	31. Have Your Tribble Spayed or Neutered

**Co-authored with the effervescent SailingAwaySoftly.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, but we're working on that.**

-_-_-_

Bee sighed as she took Sulu's place on the bridge. She would have gladly forgone her promotion for the a few hours' extra sleep, but she had a job to do. She was still in shock about being pregnant, and it didn't help her concentration that Spock was only a few feet away from her. She felt some relief that he hadn't been angry, that he had actually seemed pleased. She wasn't completely sure of how she felt herself; it was totally unexpected, but she realized that she was secretly glad to be even further tied to Spock.

Emotionally, Bee was spent. They had received a lead from Star Fleet on the Klingon ship, a lead that was going to lead them into the tricky territory of the neutral zone, but she couldn't bring herself to care. She was vaguely aware of Kirk telling her something and then following his orders, but her actions were mere reflexes to something she had gone over a thousand times in theory at the Academy.

"We'll be docking at the space station before entering to neutral zone," said Kirk.

"Aye, Captain."

She felt a headache coming on, and she realized that the source of her irritation was an unusual humming in the back of her head. It wasn't so much a sound, more like a feeling, and she had no idea what it was. The more she tried to ignore it, the more pronounced it became.

Suddenly, she felt a small jolt of… _happiness_? She immediately turned to look at Spock. He looked like he always did. But it had to be him. And the humming… he was really happy. It was like the Vulcan equivalent of giggling. That was… new. He looked up and caught her eye. If she hadn't been so tired, she might have smiled at him.

_Well,_ she thought, _I'm glad he's happy about this. I still don't know what to think._

Spock did his best to contain himself for the rest of her shift, but something else was nagging Bee. She knew that she had to tell Arlo, and it had to be soon. She couldn't keep this from him; it wasn't fair. At this point, it didn't matter whether or not he understood. She just wanted him to accept it. He would be a lot less likely to do that if he were the last person to find out, or if he found out from someone other than herself.

When her shift was over, Bee made her way down to Engineering. She knew that Isla had told her to go to the medical bay, but she had to talk to Arlo first.

-_-_-_

"Hi, Bee!" squealed Adele.

Bee smiled at her. "Hullo. Having fun?"

"_Oui!_ Yes!" What French and English Adele did know, she insisted on saying both. Arlo had been hoping that the more English she learned, the less she would do this.

"Hey," said Arlo. "You need something?"

He was still annoyed with her. "Yes, I need to talk to you."

"Adele, why don't you go see what Scotty's doing?"

"Okay!" She scampered off.

"What's up?" he asked.

"Well, I'm just going to warn you right now that you're going to be very angry with me, but I just want you to know that I wanted you to hear it from me, and I wanted to tell you now instead of later."

"Should I be restrained, just as a precaution?"

She closed her eyes.

"Wow, this really is serious, isn't it? Bee, what's going on?"

"Arlo, I'm pregnant."

"You're _WHAT_?!"

"Pregnant, Arlo."

Smart enough to keep his voice down, he hissed, "Who's the father?!"

This was the hard part. "It's Commander Spock, Arlo."

He blinked.

"Bee, that's not even funny."

"I'm not joking."

"WHAT THE HELL, BEE."

"Shhh!"

"What difference does it make? It's not like you're going to be able to hide it! Wait –" he eyed her suspiciously "– Are you going to keep it?"

Bee hadn't even thought of that. She would certainly be within her rights, and it would definitely make things easier, but… Spock was happy. And she supposed she was happy, too. And part of her liked the idea that it was Spock's baby…

"Yes, I'm keeping it."

"You just like making things difficult?"

"Oh, so keeping Adele didn't make things difficult?"

"That's different!"

"How is it different?"

"Because there was no sexual activity with a superior officer involved! Why, Bee?"

She had to explain to him, even if he didn't understand. She owed him that.

"I can't tell you everything because it's not just my secret. But due to Vulcan physiological processes, he would have died."

"Somehow, that doesn't surprise me," he said coldly. "But you just eagerly volunteered?"

"No, I didn't. He asked me, actually. He explained, and gave me a choice."

"It's not much of a choice if you throw someone's life into it!"

"It wasn't like that! He made it very clear what I would be getting myself into, and he was honestly surprised when I agreed."

"But you're pregnant!"

"It was an accident! We – we didn't think… that it would happen…"

Arlo was ready to continue yelling at her, but for the first time he could tell that she was scared. "Bee, I don't know what to say… Are you alright?"

She sighed. "I don't know…"

"What does Spock think?"

"He's… happy, actually. Shocked, too, but I think he's pleased."

Arlo scowled.

"I wish you'd think better of him, Arlo," said Bee. "He's not as bad as you think he is."

"I've never thought he was bad," said Arlo. "But I hope he feels more than he shows."

"Trust me, he does."

He sighed. "Well, Bee, I still don't know what to say. Do you want my blessing or something?"

She raised her eyebrows. "I hardly think I need your blessing. I just don't want you to be angry with me."

"Well, it seems to me that you've gotten yourself into a bit of a stupid situation, but I don't suppose you've done anything wrong."

"Really? Thanks."

"Hey, you don't have to be sarcastic. I think I'm entitled to an opinion."

Bee smiled slightly. "Yeah, I guess you are."

-_-_-_

Surprisingly, Arlo was alright with Bee being pregnant. Well, he actually _wasn't_ alright with it, but he wasn't angry about it. He had briefly entertained thoughts of confronting Spock about it, but decided that he wanted to keep thoughts of the commander out of his head when at all possible. When his shift was over, he took Adele back to quarters and put her to bed. She soon fell asleep, so he decided to wander back to see what Scotty was up to.

They had arrived at the space station just outside of the neutral zone, but only certain members of the crew were allowed to beam aboard.

"Arlo, lad!"

He turned, smiling. "Scotty, I was just looking for you."

"Well, come on, lad, we don't have much time before we leave."

Scotty had Chekov in tow, and the three of them made their way to the transportation room. Claiming that he needed the two ensigns, Scotty got them aboard the space station without too much trouble. It also helped that he was the chief engineer and knew how to work the pad better than the two technicians currently manning it.

They immediately went for the bar, their last chance for real alcohol for a while. Scotty went with scotch, of course, and made fun of Chekov and his vodka. Arlo decided to go with vodka, too.

"Laddie, you'll never be a man drinking that dish water," Scotty scoffed.

"Whatever you say, Scotty," said Arlo, pouring himself some more.

Chekov laughed. "You two are wery funny."

"Well, look who's already had a wee bit too much?"

"No, I'm alright. I'm fine, really."

Scotty chuckled. "I really think you've had enough, lad."

Chekov laughed again and helped himself to some more vodka. "If anyvone can drink wodka, it's a Russian!"

"Lad, we know you can drink it. I just don't think you can hold it."

Arlo was trying hard not the laugh at Chekov as he became increasingly drunk, his own head starting to buzz slightly.

A little while later, Chekov sat straight up, frowning.

"Ach! Vat's zis?" He pulled something from the chair he was sitting in. It appeared to be a ball of fuzz. "I vas sitting on it."

"I dunno." Scotty took the think from him. It made a small squeaking noise and wiggled a bit. "Hey, would ya look at that – it's alive!"

He handed it over to Arlo, and it started purring.

Chekov giggled. "He likes you."

Arlo set it down on the table, and they watched it for a little while as it scooted around the surface. It stopped moved after a bit and just kept squeaking occasionally.

Chekov put his head down on the table, and Scotty tossed back another scotch. Arlo was really starting to feel the vodka, so he decided he'd better not have much more. He wondered if the fur ball were still alive. Then he frowned.

There were now three fluffy balls in the middle of the table.

"Eh, where did the other two come from?" he asked.

Scotty frowned, too. "I dunno. They weren't there before."

"I know that."

"Looks like he is actually a she. Maybe we should take them back to see what McCoy has to say about them."

Chekov suddenly lifted his head a little. "I remember vat it is! It's a tribble."

"A what?"

"A tribble. I remember reading about zem at ze Academy."

"Well, what's a tribble?"

"Ve can't take zem on ze ship. Zey are born pregnant, and ze multiply ever few hours. If zey get on ze ship, zey could eat ze food supply!"

"Born pregnant? That's no fun!" said Scotty.

"What do they do though?" Arlo asked.

"Zey have no purpose other zan to consume food and reproduce. Zey purr when zey are happy and hiss when zey are angry."

"Huh. Well, lads, I think it best if we get back to the ship and have a good sleep before our next shift. Arlo, let's see if we can get Chekov back without too much suspicion."

-_-_-_

Bee went down to the medical bay after seeing Arlo. Isla had wanted to talk to her about a few things.

"Hullo," she said.

"Hey, good, I'm glad you're here." Isla sat Bee down. "Okay, this isn't going to take long – I think need to tell you a couple of things."

"Does this involve way more information than I want to know about being pregnant?"

"Not really. We'll deal with that as you get further along. You're baby is going to be pretty unique, Bee."

"I'd imagined that there weren't too many quarter Vulcan children running around the universe."

"Right. Since the baby will be mostly human though, we're going to assume this is going to be a fairly normal pregnancy. I mainly wanted to tell you that if anything, and Bee, I mean _anything_ doesn't feel right, you come straight here."

"Gee, thanks. That's comforting."

"It's about to get better."

"Oh, joy."

"You need to be careful. The early stages of pregnancy can be really tricky."

"You're not helping me stay calm about this."

Isla laughed. "Bee, you've just found out that you're pregnant. I'm not expecting you to be calm. Just try not to stress too much, alright?"

"I'll do my best, doc." Bee stood to leave.

"Oh," Isla called to her friend's retreating figure, "and you can still have sex. It's actually good for the pregnancy."

Bee paused only slightly before leaving.

-_-_-_

"I swear, I don't think things on this ship could get much weirder. And I've seen Romulans from the future," said Bones as he gazed into a microscope. "It was bad enough trying not to think about Spock and Uhura. But Spock and Bee…"

"Tell me about it," said Isla. She reached across the table for another sample. She squinted into her microscope at it. "Tell me again why I'm helping you sort through mold samples?"

"Because I don't think you're quite busy enough. But if you want to go back to mopping up Sulu every ten minutes…"

"Thanks, I'll pass."

They continued in silence. Isla seemed to be perfectly at ease, though a little bored, but McCoy was ready to go insane. If he had been smart, he would have given himself some relief and let Isla leave early so he could at least get his thoughts together, but somehow he didn't want her to leave early at all.

_Stop it,_ he commanded himself firmly. _You're her commanding officer for god's sake. You want to end up like Bee and Spock?_

He told himself no, he didn't, and then he realized that Spock was having more sex than he was.

-_-_-_

Bee was so tired that she didn't even notice that she honestly didn't care about anything else as long as she got to sleep for the next several hours.

When she got to her quarters, she found Spock there waiting for her.

"Lieutenant, given our present circumstances, I think it best if you stay with me. That is, only if you wish to do so."

She smiled faintly at him with half-lidded eyes. "If you let me sleep for the foreseeable future, I'll sleep wherever you want me to."

Spock did not reply. Instead, he stepped forward and picked her up, taking her back to his quarters. She was asleep before he could set her down.

-_-_-_

**A/N: Sorry for the delay! The drinking/tribble subplot was the brilliant idea of LunarEclipse, our contest winner! You'll be seeing it resurface from time to time. REVIEW, PLEASE.**


	32. Thump, Thump

**Co-authored with the effervescent SailingAwaySoftly.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, but we're working on that.**

-_-_-_

Bee frowned at her reflection in the mirror. At this point, she didn't care that they had sat waiting just outside the neutral zone for two and a half months, patrolling the borders, carrying out a pointless mission of "scientific inquiry" on nearby planets, pretending to be busy while the Powers-That-Be quibbled over a decent excuse to send their flagship into dangerous territory.

The only thing that she cared about at the moment was what the past two and a half months had done to her body. Her only consolation was that she definitely looked pregnant and couldn't be mistaken for fat. That still didn't change the fact that she _felt_ fat. Her "baby bubble," as Isla was fond of calling it, seemed to grow at an increasingly faster rate once she first started showing.

_Spock_, she called. Their bond had strengthened considerably. They weren't exactly holding long conversations in their heads, but with concentration they could project specific thoughts. Emotions, intentions, and impressions were felt easily, and distance – at least within the ship – didn't seem to have an effect.

He arrived a couple of minutes later.

"The baby is kicking."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Come here."

He approached her obediently. She took his hand and placed it on her belly.

_Thump, thump._ The eyebrow rose again, but so did the left corner of his mouth.

"Ouch, ah –" Bee winced slightly. Spock immediately dropped his hand. "No, don't – he knows it's you. He's… happy…" Bee seemed to astonish herself.

Both of Spock's eyebrows went up.

"He?"

"It's – it's a boy. I don't… This isn't normal. I just – I just know. When he's hungry, when he's happy – and I know he's a boy. Spock, how is this possible?"

Some Vulcan mothers could form mental bonds with a fetus; it was not uncommon. It was usually not very strong and did not continue after birth, but the fact that Bee was human and the child was mostly human was completely unexpected.

"I think," Spock said slowly, "that I should contact my father."

-_-_-_

"Arlo?"

He didn't look at Tracey. She had insisted that he come and see her, not as a friend, but for counseling. He wished she wouldn't talk to Adele so much.

"What do you want me to say?"

"Remember what you told me your sister said? About Adele being your second chance for Gwyneth? I think she's right."

"Considering her situation, I don't think she can give psychological observations."

"I think you're in denial."

He glared at her. Tracey was his friend, but he wasn't going to listen to this.

"Don't tune me out, okay? I'm not saying that you don't care about Adele – I can see that you genuinely do – but this ulterior motive is ruining you."

"So, what – you want me to forgive myself?"

Tracey sighed. "No, Arlo, I don't. You don't need forgiveness because you aren't guilty of anything. Do you think _I_ should forgive myself for Tom's death?"

He stared at her. "No," he said quietly, "you shouldn't."

"You may think the two situations are entirely different, but they aren't."

All he could see was her sadness. She may not have felt guilty for Tom's death, but that didn't lessen the pain. It had been months, but it was still acute. It was then that Arlo realized that their situations _were_ the same. He wasn't guilty, but it had been years, and he _still_ felt that pain.

"Yes… Tracey, I think I understand."

She smiled bitterly. "I'm sorry. It hurts to realize it, doesn't it?"

It did hurt, but Arlo felt somewhat relieved. He no longer felt that guilty burden. He hadn't even noticed it's presence until it was gone. And then he looked at Tracey. If ever there were someone so undeserving of that kind of pain, it was her.

"Tracey, I –"

"Arlo, I know you're my friend, and I'm very grateful for that, so if you want to comfort me, then do it, but I don't want your pity."

He understood that. "How about we – I dunno – just go have a meal or something. Just talk about normal things for once."

She smiled genuinely for the first time. "I'm starving."

-_-_-_

"Good news," Isla informed McCoy, "Baby Bell seems to be developing normally. Well, as normally as I can figure for the only quarter Vulcan/three-quarter human in the universe."

He nodded. "What's the rest of the crew saying about it?"

"They're keeping their mouths shut, mostly because they have no clue for father suspects. You know what's really ironic? When you really think about it, Spock's actually the most logical suspect."

"How do you figure that one?"

"Well, they both have the same sort of cold, calculating, asexual reputation."

Bones harrumphed.

"Thanks for the concession."

He smiled slightly.

"Why, Mac, I believe you just smiled."

"It's been known to happen."

She laughed, but continued with her work. A young ensign had been admitted the day before with the mysterious flu-like symptoms.

"How are we doing, Eric?" she asked him.

He groaned in response.

"Yeah, I figured."

She did her best to make him comfortable, but it looked like he would just have to ride it out.

She took the data pad with Johnson's chart over to McCoy. He was working on some sort of medication.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Something for Johnson. I think I've isolated the pathogen."

"Good. If it works, we'll need more in case it spreads."

He nodded. Isla had to admire his concentration. His usual gruff manner did not in any way match the careful precision with which he treated his medicine.

"Hey, hold this, will you?"

She obediently held the beaker as he meticulously measured another liquid into the mixture.

Not bothering to ask her, he took her wrist and lifted the beaker up to his eye level. His eyes narrowed as he watched it flow into the solution. He didn't blink until the last drop had fallen.

Isla was staring at him. He shifted his attention and stared back.

Suddenly, he was an inch from her face. Then a centimeter. Then –

He pulled back suddenly.

"Where are the sterile hyposprays?"

-_-_-_

McCoy hated himself, but he wasn't sure whether it was because he hadn't stopped himself sooner or because he hadn't gone through with it.

He wanted Isla. It was as plain and simple as that. Except it wasn't.

Once bitten, twice shy. Not that he could compare Isla in any way to his ex-wife, but he acknowledged that he promised himself that he would separate sex and emotion. The problem was, he just wasn't capable of it. He didn't know why. Most men possessed that particular skill. For some men, it was their only skill. James Kirk was walking proof of its success.

He injected Ensign Johnson with a little more force than was absolutely necessary. Then he did what he always did when he was frustrated. He barricaded himself in his office. Somehow, by separating himself from the primary problem, it became secondary. If he didn't have to see it, he didn't have to think about it.

_That's right, pretend there's nothing to worry about. And you thought Jim was screwed up. And just remember – Spock's having more sex than you are._

"Shut up," he told his brain.

-_-_-_

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait! As reward for your patience, you get two chapters. TA-DA! REVIEW!!!!!!!!!**


	33. Off Topic

**Co-authored with the effervescent SailingAwaySoftly.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, but we're working on that.**

-_-_-_

Dr. Leonard McCoy, AKA pain in the ass, AKA paranoid pessimist, AKA without a doubt the sexiest man Isla's hormones had ever finally gotten around to noticing as such. He had _almost_ kissed her, which meant that he had _almost_ breached protocol, which meant that he _definitely_ thought that kissing her was a really good reason for doing so. And she was hopelessly confused about it.

Isla's body, after several celibate months, was finally letting her know that she was seriously neglecting it in the sex department. It was also telling her to stop being stupid and wake up, because there was obviously _something_ between her and McCoy other than the hindrance of clothing.

Isla wasn't sure how she felt about him, emotionally at least. Physically, she definitely wanted to jump him and shack up with him in some dark hole in the depths of the ship. But ever since her return to the _Enterprise_, things had been different between them. There was still sarcasm, there was still witty banter, but there was something _else_. She respected the hell out of him, yes, but there was something _more_. There was _friendship_.

They had an understanding. They were very, very alike, both very, very stubborn. They learned not to push each other too much, and they didn't take heated words too seriously. They managed to agree on quite a bit as far as medicine went, and they were eventually able to have a friendly conversation devoid of sarcasm.

Isla also wasn't one to get carried away with a little notion. She was not in love with Leonard McCoy. But she did accept the fact that she was attracted to him on more than just a physical level, and she wanted to see where it would go. If sex were involved, then so much the better. She wanted to at least know what it was like to kiss him.

She had no doubt that he reciprocated these feelings to a certain extent, evidenced by his almost-kiss, so she decided that she was going to finish what he started. She sincerely hoped that it ended with sex. _Then_ they could explore whatever this thing was. Right now she needed some physical incentive for future emotional exploration.

-_-_-_

McCoy was in his office looking over a data pad. He spoke without looking up.

"Ensign Johnson will be alright soon. I think he caught what Sulu had, and he's been responding well to the medication. I've come up with an innoculation, too, so we should distribute it to the rest of the crew as soon as possible."

"That's good."

"Yes." He looked up at her. She had a strange look on her face, and she was chewing her bottom lip as though she were considering something. "You need something?"

"Mac," she said simply.

His first instinct was that something was wrong. It had been a hectic day for all of them, and another crisis would just be the cherry on top. He stood to his feet and crossed the room to her in two strides.

"What's wrong?" he asked. He couldn't tell anything from her expression.

Without warning, Isla closed the small space between them and threw her arms around his neck. Her lips forcefully collided with his, and she tangled her fingers in his hair. This was not a kiss. This was a full-on assault. Taken completely by surprise, Bones automatically placed his hands on her hips and pulled her flush against him. It was only when oxygen became absolutely necessary did they break apart.

"Care to explain yourself?" he demanded.

"I'm just finishing what you started, though I'd say we're far from finished," she replied.

"You have no idea what a relief it is to hear you say that, because spending the past week wondering just how I'm going to drag you back to my quarters really hasn't been cutting it for me."

Giving her no time to respond, he fiercely reclaimed her lips, backing her right up against the wall. He braced his arms on either side of her, effectively trapping her there. He kissed her until she was whimpering, and even then he did not want to pull back.

"But I don't think I'll be able to make it back to my quarters," he said. The door was locked, and the room was essentially soundproof. They weren't going to be interrupted.

It had been almost eight years for Bones, and while he was not going to hurt her, he was in no way planning to be loving and tender. His body was sex-deprived. He wanted her now, and he wanted her rough.

"It's been years. I. Will. Not. Be. _Gentle_," he managed to growl as they attacked each other's offending clothing.

She laughed. "I don't want you to be."

Isla's head slammed into the wall as they connected. The cool metal against her back was a welcome contrast to her blazing skin. Their hands were exploring every inch of skin they could find. Every touch burned.

They weren't being very quiet about it, but it wasn't until he shifted and adjusted their angle slightly that Isla cried out. Bones wanted no endearments, no sweet nothings. He didn't even want dirty talk. He only wanted commands, words like "faster," "harder," and "_more_."

"Mac, I want you horizontal. NOW," she hissed.

Bones didn't care about the data pad, lamp, and other bits and pieces he sent flying to the floor. The only thing he wanted on his desk was Isla. He pushed her onto her back and climbed on top of her, cradling her head with one hand so she wouldn't hit it again. The last thing he wanted was for her to get a concussion.

And then there was nothing else. There was no court martial, there were no Klingons, there was no ex-wife, there was no neglectful father. There were only her legs around his waist, his lips feverishly attacking her neck. There was only the ability to feel. The heightened sensations sustained for what seemed like an eternity and then suddenly doubled.

And even then there was still only erratic breathing, frantic heartbeats, sweaty skin, and trembling aftershocks. Unable to maintain their current position, Bones slid to the floor, pulling Isla with him. She collapsed on top of him, splayed across his chest. He held her close, still shaking slightly.

When their pulses and breathing had returned to relatively normal, McCoy spoke.

"What are we doing, Isla?" he asked, still a little breathless. He traced his fingers along her spine.

"Mmm," was her reply.

"What?"

"I like that."

"Like what?"

"You saying my name, Mac."

This surprised him a little. He'd never called her by her first name before. He had also eventually gotten used to her calling him Mac, and though he would never admit it, he actually liked it.

"But back to your question, I'm assuming you meant something other than having amazing, shameless sex in your office instead of your quarters. Personally, I find the wall a refreshing change from a bed, but my back won't thank you later for the desk." She smiled slyly at him.

"Sorry. We just weren't going to make it that far. You're off-topic again."

She sighed. "I know. I'm not avoiding it, I'm just thinking about my answer."

He let her think for a few moments.

"Despite all the frustration we've put each other through," she finally said, "we're friends. That being said, I think it's safe to say that I'm very, very attracted to you, and I really, really want to see what sort of relationship we can make out of this."

He chuckled slightly. "As long as sex is involved?"

She reached up and tugged his earlobe a little forcefully. "The sex is great, don't get me wrong."

"Thanks."

She nodded. "But I would really rather have more from you than just that. I want to tell you that I love you, but not just because you're great in the sack. And I... I hope that maybe I could eventually give you a reason too. Because I've pretty much failed spectacularly at this my whole life."

"What makes you think I'm so different, Isla?" he asked seriously.

"Because you had me arrested. You can give back whatever I throw at you. If we got through the whole court martial thing and still managed to not hate each other, let alone become friends _or_ have sex, then I think we've got a chance."

He considered her reply for a moment. "I think that the hobgoblin would find that very logical." He kissed her softly. "And so do I." Then he kissed her hard. He really liked the fact that he was going to be able to do that on a regular basis. He wanted it to last a little longer, but Isla apparently had more to say.

"Okay, so can we make an agreement not to say the L-word until we know beyond a shadow of a doubt that it's true?"

"Agreed."

"Excellent. Now, with that out of the way, how about another round?" she teased.

He smirked at her. "As tempting as that sounds, we _do_ have a sick bay to run."

"Correction - _you_ have a sick bay to run."

"And I'm ordering you to help me run it."

They laughed and got to their feet. Retrieving their discarded clothes, they quickly dressed. Isla still trembled a little.

"Are you alright?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just really hungry. I haven't eaten much all day, what with everything that's been going on."

"And now this."

She smiled and leaned in to kiss him softly. "Mac, you _would_ be the one to turn me into a hypoglycemic pile of goo."

He chuckled.

"Ugh, I need a shower. But I can't decide whether or not I want to eat first," she said.

"Go shower," he said. "Then we can eat. I think Johnson will be fine without us for a little while. Nurse Chapel can keep an eye on him."

-_-_-_

After showering (separately), they met back at the mess hall to eat. They didn't speak much, mostly because they were both ravenous. All was well when they returned to the medical bay. Johnson was sleeping, and his fever had broken. It was a graveyard shift, so there were only a couple of nurses roaming around the sick bay.

"Isla," McCoy said after a little while.

"Hmm?" she asked, looking up from Johnson's chart.

He held up a hypospray. "Come here."

A little confused, she walked over to him. His fingers were soft as he brushed her hair away from her skin, and he unexpectedly planted a small kiss on her neck before injecting her. It stung a little, and she winced slightly as she straightened back up.

"What was that?" she asked.

"Contraceptive," he replied.

"I'm pretty sure I should have had that _before_ we had sex."

He chuckled. "We didn't exactly have much time to think about a little thing like a contraceptive. Besides, that one's for _after_."

She smiled. "Thanks."

He leaned in and kissed her quickly before they returned to their work. But things got a little clumsy after that. She touched his arm when she reached past him once to grab a chart. They kept bumping somehow every time they passed each other. Their hands touched briefly when they both reached for the same vial. It was ridiculous, but they were able to escape from the crises of the day for a little while in the safe bubble of the medical bay.

Then the red alert shattered it.

-_-_-_

**A/N: BAHAHAHAHA. Thought those pesky Klingons weren't coming back, didn't you? SIKE. REVIEW.**


	34. Zank You Wery Much, Meester Chekov

**Co-authored with the effervescent SailingAwaySoftly.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, but we're working on that.**

-_-_-_

The Klingon ship had reappeared. They were just over the line into the neutral zone, staring down the _Enterprise_.

"Captain," said Spock slowly, "we are being hailed."

"Acknowledge." Kirk was barely aware of his own voice.

The face that appeared on the screen sneered at them with something between a smirk and a glare. It was humanoid, but its features were harsh and cruel-looking. Kirk knew that this was what evil looked like in nightmares.

"I'm Captain James Kirk of the _U.S.S. Enterprise_. Who the hell are you?"

"I," the figure half-growled, "am tired of trailing you and your little starship along, Captain Kirk."

"Then by all means, turn and fight us."

"I don't want to fight you, Captain Kirk. I want to negotiate with you."

"You aren't in a position to negotiate. You attacked and destroyed a Federation ship in Federation territory without cause. That is an act of war."

"But, captain, I believe I _am_ in a position to negotiate. You see, I have something I think you might want."

"What?" Kirk spat.

"I believe you know Captain Benjamin Dale, Commander Troy Andrews, and Lieutenant Lucy Barrow of the _U.S.S. Indefatigable_? Yes, I thought you'd recognize those names," he added, seeing Kirk's look of disbelief. "Oh, they're still very much alive, as well as half a dozen other crewmembers."

Kirk opened his mouth to speak, but the Klingon interrupted him.

"You know very well what I wanted with them. But I am willing to negotiate a trade. You and your first officer will meet with me on planet CK-407 in twelve hours. I don't think I need to tell you what will happen if you fail to appear." The screen went dark.

"Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me," Kirk said. "He _really_ thinks it's going to be that easy?"

"Captain, I have run scans on the Klingon vessel. It does not match any of the ships in our records and does not otherwise appear to be part of the Klingon fleet."

"Loners? That's unusual." Klingons, like Romulans, had a very strong sense of patriotic duty.

"Yes, but from his manner and actions so far, I believe, sir, that they are… 'high risk' traders."

"You mean pirates. I'm not even surprised by that. What do they want us for? Subspace frequencies or other confidential Star Fleet information? It doesn't make sense. Pirates would just go for traders."

"It is highly unlikely that we would be able to provide them with anything very profitable."

"Well, we're going to find out what they're up to, and we're definitely getting those men back."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Jim, they have the advantage. An ambush is highly likely, and –"

"I know that, Spock. That's why I have a plan."

-_-_-_

"You're what?!"

"I am beaming down to the planet with the captain to negotiate with the Klingons," Spock said evenly.

"You're going… to negotiate… with Klingons… Spock, do you _hear_ yourself?" Bee demanded.

"There is nothing the matter with my auditory perception. Jim has a plan," he explained.

"Jim… has… a… plan… That isn't comforting. At all." She searched his face for any sign. His gaze was averted, so she couldn't read it in his eyes. "Spock, I'm pregnant."

"I am aware of that," he said slowly.

"You expect me to just sit up here and wait for you not to come back?"

Spock knew their odds weren't good. "I do not wish you to spend any extended length of time doing such a thing."

"How much longer do you think I'm going to live if that Klingon kills you and Jim? We won't be able to get away. We'll be entirely at their mercy, which, as you very well know, that Klingon won't have much of."

"We cannot let their attack go unanswered, especially since we now have a hostage situation."

Bee sat down slowly on the bed, as though suddenly tired. "Please, don't go." _Please, don't… leave… us…_

Spock sat next to her. "We will arrive at the planet soon. Listen to me – Jim's. Plan. Will Work."

She was surprised. Spock just didn't say optimistic things like that. Spock stated the odds and usually based his decisions on the better chance. He didn't give absolutes to things like negotiating with Klingons.

And she knew it was for her sake. She didn't like having things sugarcoated, but he wasn't doing that at all. He was reassuring her, because at this point, it was all he could do.

"I have to go," Spock said after a moment.

She nodded slowly as they stood. Spock pulled her closed and kissed her. He rested one hand on her belly to receive an answering thump.

-_-_-_

Kirk had Chekov running scans on the planet the minute they dropped out of warp speed.

"Captain, ze Klingons seem to have… colonized ze planet."

"They _what_?"

"Ze planet is svarming vit zem. Zere are no ozer Klingon ships in orbit. Ve have picked up ze signals of ze hostages, but ve can't lock onto zem."

"Doesn't sound like the Klingons have much security if we can pick up those signals. Alright, Mr. Chekov, thank you."

He made his way down to Engineering.

"Scotty," he said as he approached his chief engineer, "I need Arlo for this mission."

The Scotsman nodded soberly. "Aye, captain." He called Arlo.

"Scotty, you're in command of the ship. I don't care what happens to the away team, but if that ship attacks, you get the _Enterprise_ back over the line, you understand me?"

He didn't answer at first. "We can fight them, captain."

"I said, do you understand me, Scotty?" He gave him a hard look.

It was met with dawning comprehension. "They want the ship…"

Kirk nodded. "Spock figured it out. When he scanned their ship, he discovered that it was an older ship. Their weapons may be stronger than ours, and they may have their cloaking device, but the _Enterprise_ has a superior design, and they want to outfit it with their own technology."

"They aren't going to touch her, captain."

"Excellent." Arlo appeared at Scotty's elbow. "Come on, Ensign."

-_-_-_

Kirk's next stop was the medical bay. He didn't know what shape the hostage crewmembers were in, so he wanted to take a doctor just in case. Isla volunteered before Bones had a chance to open his mouth.

"No," said McCoy firmly. "No way in hell."

Kirk wasn't entirely sure how to respond. He didn't want to risk either one, but they needed a medical officer on the away team.

Isla was already putting together a medical kit. "I'm going."

Bones sighed in defeat. Kirk turned to leave. Isla was about to follow him, but McCoy grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to kiss her hard.

"If you get yourself killed, I'm not forgiving you. Not ever."

-_-_-_

"What was that all about?" Kirk asked Isla as they made their way to the transporter room.

"What do you think it was about, captain?"

He smiled. "It's about time."

"Did you have a bet with someone?"

"No, as a matter of fact. I should have though."

-_-_-_

In the transporter room, Arlo was already standing on the pad, impatient to go.

"Not yet, Bell," said Kirk. "You're not going first. Spock and I'll go down, and then Chekov will fill you in."

"Aye, captain."

Spock arrived a couple of minutes later with three other ensigns, all armed with phasers. He and Kirk stepped onto the pad.

"Chekov, you have the coordinates that Klingon gave you?"

"Aye, captain."

"Good luck, gentlemen. Energize!"

Then they were gone.

"Alright, Chekov, what's the plan?" Arlo asked.

"Ve are maintaining standard orbit around ze planet at a safe distance from ze Klingon ship. Ve haf picked up ze signals of ze hostages, but ve can't beam zem up, most likely because of some dewice in place on ze planet. Ze facility at ze coordinates zey gave us is vell guarded, but not shielded, so I'll be able to beam you inside. You are to find ze hostages, give zem medical attention if necessary, and incapacitate any Klingons you may encounter. Captain Kirk and Commander Spock are staging negotiations as a distraction."

"If the planet's swarming with Klingons, how are we supposed to pull this off?" one ensign asked.

"Wery stealthily."

Arlo and Isla chuckled.

"From vat I have been able to deduce, ze facility seems to be ze command center. If you are able to take control of it, you should be safe from outside attack. Ven you have found ze hostages, signal the ship."

"And then what?"

"Vait for orders."

The party positioned themselves on the pad. Bee arrived just as Isla opened her mouth to give Chekov the command.

"Oh," said Bee, "he's already gone. And… No. No, you're not going, too, are you?" Her eyes flickered between Isla and Arlo.

"Don't worry, Bee, we're coming back," said Arlo.

"Yeah, Bee," said Isla. "Go and keep Mac company until I get back."

"But what about Adele?" she asked Arlo. "She needs you! You'll get yourself killed!"

"I'll be fine, Bee."

"Not you two as well! You can't _all_ go." She approached the pad.

"No, Bee," said Arlo firmly. "You're not coming."

"You can't all leave me here!" Chekov gently pulled her back.

"Keep that kid safe, Bee. I still want to be an uncle when I get back."

"Arlo –"

"Energize!"

-_-_-_

**A/N: OHSNAP. Another cliffhanger. MWAHAHAHAHAHA! Okay, so the Klingons aren't supposed to be totally bad-ass like the Romulans. I mean, they're tough, but they're bullies. So they aren't supposed to be the most spectacularly evil villains ever. They're just sort of generic, and they're here for plot flow purposes. So don't criticize them too much. Anywho, REVIEW.**


	35. Scotty Made Me Do It

**Co-authored with the effervescent SailingAwaySoftly.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, but we're working on that.**

-_-_-_

The exact coordinates the Klingon had given them put Kirk and Spock in a small circular room. Facing them were four enormous Klingons, the biggest of whom stood a foot taller than Spock. Their mouths were set into permanent sneers. It reminded Kirk of the nightmare where the dreamer, wearing nothing but his underwear, was facing a line of 300-pound defenders.

A fifth Klingon entered, half-dragging Troy Andrews. He grunted as he dropped the commander into a crumpled pile at Kirk's feet. It looked like he had been tortured. Jim immediately knelt beside him to see how badly he was hurt.

"How are you, Troy?"

"I've been better, sir. I'll live."

"Where are the others?"

"The captain's in a cell, but Lucy –"

"Captain Kirk, there are thousands of Klingons on this planet," said the leader who had addressed them earlier.

"So what? Why do you want my ship?"

"If you'd care to step over here, I'll show you." He indicated a large panel screen on the wall.

Kirk and Spock exchanged a look and hesitantly approached. It appeared to be a read-out of the planet and space in its vicinity. There was nothing.

The Klingon pressed his own comm link. "Now."

First one dot, then another, and another, and another appeared on the screen around the planet.

"We've been stealing starships for years. Mostly traders and commercial vessels, because they're often armed better than your Star Fleet ships. I wanted the _Indefatigable_, but the captain destroyed his bridge rather than surrender his ship. You see, Captain Kirk, I'm building a fleet of my own, and I want the _Enterprise_ for my flagship."

The dots on the screen were starships, fully adapted and outfitted with Klingon weapons. The _Enterprise_ wasn't up against just one Klingon ship, she was up against a dozen.

"Holy shit."

-_-_-_

Scotty was already giving the order to Bee for maximum warp by the time the fourth Klingon ship de-cloaked.

"What?! Scotty, we can't leave them all down there!" she said.

"Captain's orders. We have to run, or we won't last five minutes."

"Scotty –"

"JUST DO IT, LASS!"

Bee and Chekov reversed the ship and got it up to maximum warp in the opposite direction, but Bee called Sulu up to the bridge and left as soon as he arrived. She made her way to medical bay and pushed herself into McCoy's arms before he knew what was happening. She didn't cry – she wouldn't allow herself that. But she was trembling almost uncontrollably. McCoy was extremely alarmed.

"Bee, listen to me! You have _got_ to get control of yourself." He gripped her arms and stared her down.

She nodded mutely.

"You have to be careful." He was a little kinder this time.

"We're leaving, we're running. Scotty – he made me –"

McCoy paled. "We're leaving them behind?"

"He said it was Kirk's orders, that if they attacked we had to leave them and run."

Bones was actually speechless. Jim… Isla… They were as good as dead. He slowly sat down, pulling Bee with him, holding her the way a brother holds a sister at a mother's funeral. She grimaced.

"What?"

"He's kicking… He's… confused. He doesn't know why I'm upset…"

Bones didn't want to ask. He had figured the baby wouldn't be completely normal by human standards. He was hardly shocked that the fetus was beaming telepathic rays at Bee. She tried to calm herself down, if only for the baby's sake.

She was almost four months along in her pregnancy, but McCoy thought she looked like she was more like five and a half months.

"Bee, I think your pregnancy is going to be shorter than nine months," he said. "That fetus is growing too fast for it to last that long."

"How long do think?"

"Seven at the outside."

Bee looked a little relieved, and Bones didn't blame her. Being pregnant wasn't easy.

"So, you already know the sex?"

"Yeah, I know it's weird, but it's hard to explain. I'm sort of… telepathically linked to him, like I am to Spock."

"I really don't want to know about any more Vulcan physiological processes, thank you very much."

She nodded.

"If Jim doesn't bring her back alive, I swear to gods I'll kill him with my bare hands."

"Even if they do make it back alive, I'll still kill him with my bare hands," she answered.

"Who? Jim or Spock?"

"Both of them. All of them."

"I'm sorry Bee."

"I'd imagine you're feeling much the same."

"I don't know what I feel."

They were silent for a little while. Then Bee suddenly had an idea.

_If distance wasn't affected before, maybe I can still…_ She drew in a deep breath, concentrating. _Spock… Please, you have to hear me…_

-_-_-_

Arlo, Isla, and Co. had been beamed into some sort of storage space. There wasn't much of anything useful, but there were some medical supplies. Isla made a note to remember how to get back to the room if she needed more supplies.

Arlo and his fellow ensigns were ready to go in guns blazing, but there was no one in sight, and there were no security lenses or anything to raise any alarm.

"Blimey, don't they have any kind of security?" Arlo whispered.

His question was answered when he rounded the corned and nearly ran into a huge Klingon.

-_-_-_

The dot that represented the _Enterprise_ was gone. Even though four ships pursued her, Spock was relieved. The _Enterprise_ was fast; she could make it back in time. The real danger was here – Bee would never forgive Jim if anything happened to him.

Spock was confident in his own physical abilities. He was three times as strong as Kirk, but the Klingons were twice as strong as he. However, Klingons were no better than bullies, relying almost entirely on brute strength in a fight. Spock possessed superior reflexes, and he knew how to turn an opponent's strength against him.

Kirk… Well, Jim could actually fight well… for a human.

_Spock…_ He felt his heart stop. Could their link bridge a distance that great?

But he didn't have time to further contemplate this, because Jim effectively ended "negotiations" by attempting to seize the weapon of the closest Klingon. He didn't succeed in stealing it, but he managed to knock it away and deliver two well-aimed blows before the Klingon's fists took over. But Jim was managing to hold his own.

Of course, that meant Spock could start fighting too. He successfully disarmed two of the Klingons, but the third grabbed him from behind, pinning his arms behind him, leaving him at the mercy of the other two, who decided to make him their new punching bag.

Kirk, meanwhile, had somehow managed to incapacitate the first Klingon – probably out of sheer willpower – and then did the most logical thing any of them had thought of so far. He picked up a discarded weapon and quickly dispatched the two Klingons beating Spock. The third was tricky, and he accidentally hit his first officer. Spock hissed as the shot grazed his arm, but he quickly gained the upper hand over the startled Klingon. Kirk shot him dead once Spock was clear.

"Thank you, captain."

"I'm sorry I shot you, Spock."

"The wound is not deep."

Kirk nodded. "Do you get the feeling that was almost too easy?"

"Since we are both in a less than desirable physical state, I would not say it was easy."

"But that's it? It seems we have taken out their leader."

"Were you hoping for an opponent more challenging?"

"Alright, alright. Well, we're stuck here until the _Enterprise_ gets back – with help, hopefully."

"I have no doubt that Mr. Scott is adequately capable of controlling the situation," Spock said tersely. He had taken quite a beating. "Captain, we should contact the others and try to take control of this complex until the _Enterprise_ arrives."

Kirk nodded.

"It's going to be a long day."

-_-_-_

Arlo didn't allow himself time to think. He just pulled the trigger, and the Klingon fell. The other ensigns had already taken care of two others who were so surprised at their sudden presence that they didn't have time to react.

"Wow. That was… easy," said one red-shirted ensign.

He dropped dead the next moment.

-_-_-_

After attempting to make Troy relatively comfortable, Kirk and Spock explored the rest of the level, but it was otherwise unoccupied. They tried to contact the others, but there was no answer. Jim tried not to dwell too much on that.

-_-_-_

**A/N: Yeah, so the Klingons aren't the best (worst?) villains ever. Just accept that and focus on the angst. REVIEW.**


	36. Indy Flashback

**Co-authored with the effervescent SailingAwaySoftly.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, but we're working on that.**

-_-_-_

When it was all said and done, ten Klingons were dead, but so were both of Arlo's fellow ensigns, leaving him and Isla alone.

"Shit," cursed Isla. She dropped the last ensign's wrist as his pulse died away.

"I wonder if the Captain and Commander Spock made it," said Arlo.

His question was answered by the chirping of his communicator. He hadn't heard it over the phaser fire.

"This is Kirk. Come in."

"This is Bell, Captain."

"Arlo. Am I glad to hear your voice. Status report."

"We were attacked, sir. It's just me and Isla now."

Kirk swore. "Spock and I have secured the facility's command center and the entire level. The _Enterprise_ has located the prisoners near your current position. There are no other Klingons patrolling in the facility. We have Troy Andrews here. The device blocking their transport signals is two levels below you, Arlo. We've put the facility on lockdown. Disable the device, get Ben and Lucy, and then meet us in the command center."

"Aye, Captain."

"Kirk out."

Arlo put away his communicator. "Well, let's get going."

It didn't take them long to find Ben and Lucy. It took Arlo even less time to release them from the crude cell they had been confined in. Ben was a little roughed up, but otherwise seemed fine. But Lucy…

"Gods," said Isla softly.

-_-_-_

Ben glared up at his rescuers. He wasn't angry at them specifically, but he glared all the same. He held Lucy's limp, lifeless body in his arms. They had murdered her. Those filthy bastard Klingons. Hadn't he had enough? He had destroyed his own ship rather than let them have it. But they couldn't even let him have that honor. They took him, his first mate, and his lover. It hadn't taken the Klingon leader long to deduce that. They had kept their relationship a secret for all the obvious reasons, but when her life was in danger, all bets were off.

"_Captain, we can't win."_

_Ben sighed. He knew the Klingons wouldn't destroy them. He knew they wanted the ship._

"_Captain, what do we do?"_

_In the years they had served together, Ben and Troy had become good friends. Could he give an order that would end both their lives?_

_Or could he give an order that would end Lucy's life?_

"_I'm not surrendering the _Indy_," he said, his voice determined not to be defeated. "Dale to Engineering."_

"_Aye, Captain," he chief engineer answered._

"_Mr. Turner, I want you to compromise the dilithium chambers."_

"_Sir, that will –"_

"_I am aware of the consequences, Mr. Turner. We're not going to give her to them."_

_Silence._

"_Aye, Captain." Turner's voice was set, defiant. He didn't need convincing._

_Ben turned to his crew on the bridge, alarms blaring around them, the ship starting to shake dangerously. He would remain on the bridge with the people who were so essential to his daily life. He would stay with them until the end._

_And then he understood. He'd experienced this frustration before, this despair, though it had been significantly less at the time. _This_ was the _Kobyashi Maru_. They hadn't been testing his intelligence, his ability to succeed in the face of his enemies. They had been testing his ability to fail._

_The younger ones were the worst. A young woman, a lieutenant barely twenty-one years old, trembled in fear, tears shining in her eyes. She was brilliant – one of the best science officers in Star Fleet. He's given the order to take away all her potential. His communications officer, his first officer – his best friend, Troy – returned a steady gaze. A middle-aged ensign, clever and capable but content in his position and never seeking promotion, looked at him, silently seeking an explanation. Ben knew he had a daughter who had just enlisted. Then there was Lucy - his pilot and his lover. He was consciously taking away her life._

_Not caring about the consequences because they no longer mattered, he held out his hand to her. She took it, and he pulled her close._

"_Forgive me," he whispered._

"_Always, Ben."_

He had been prepared to face his death. He was with Lucy. But he hadn't been prepared to face only hers. The Klingons wanted information from him, and they'd used Lucy to try to get it. But they had been unsuccessful. She died under the torture.

_She was afraid. He could see that plainly. He was ready to tell them everything they wanted to know rather than let them hurt her. But Lucy gave him a hard look before he had a chance to speak. There was nothing, absolutely nothing to be gained from giving into them. Her life? Probably not. They'd be killed anyway._

_He kept his mouth shut. She was able to withstand quite a bit in silence – more than he had expected her to anyway – but at her first scream he was ready to break. She stopped him again._

"_B-BEN, DON'T YOU D-DARE!" More unintelligible shrieks._

_In the end, he knew they hadn't meant to kill her. The leader was furious, severely injuring one of his own men in anger. That didn't pardon them. She was still dead. Ben even thought he caught a slight trace of pity from the leader when they brought her body back. He said that he admired her for the pain she withstood. That made it worse._

_Ben flew at him, snarling. The Klingon didn't even fight back, not really. He was only holding Ben back. The captain hurt himself in trying to hurt the murderer._

_And Lucy was still dead._

**-_-_-_**

Isla felt sick. She knew Lucy was dead. Her skin was too pale, her body too still. There was some blood, but not much. But her corpse had the taught, tired look of one who had been tortured.

Ben, she could tell, was in shock. He was angry, too, so she was careful not to touch Lucy as she examined him. He had only minor cuts and bruises. She was surprised he wasn't in worse shape. Then again, she didn't know how Troy was. Could the Klingons really have left Ben for last, hurting him in the worst possible ways without causing him physical harm?

One thing was certain. He wasn't going to heal anytime soon.

**-_-_-_**

**A/N: AH! So sorry. Been very busy. And then there was **_**Silent Still**_** (which you guys should TOTALLY check out). Also, if you're into **_**Twilight**_** at all, you should check out SailingAwaySoftly's fic **_**You've Got to Soldier On**_**. It's great. (And she's going to update soon, riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight?)**


	37. Welcome Committee

**Co-authored with the effervescent SailingAwaySoftly.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, but we're working on that.**

-_-_-_

Through the control center's panels, Spock ran some more scans of the planet's surface. There were a few thousand Klingon inhabitants, most dwelling in a relatively close proximity to the command center. From the records he found in the computer, most were men, but there were some females and children as well.

"Unless more female Klingons are brought here, the population will not survive long," he stated to Kirk. "The males will slowly destroy each other fighting over mates."

"Why are they here though? If the Klingon Empire wanted to colonize, they would've thought of that," Jim replied.

"Perhaps they are outcasts, exiles from their clans," Spock suggested. "That would account for their population as well as the pirates."

"At any rate, we're going to have to talk with them, find out why they're here."

"For now, we must keep the command center secure until the _Enterprise_ returns. We should convene with the others."

Kirk nodded and pulled out his communicator. "Kirk to Knight."

"Knight here."

"Isla, what's your status."

"We've found Captain Dale and Lieutenant Barrow, sir. Ben's fine, but Lucy… Captain, she's dead."

-_-_-_

Isla eventually coaxed Ben into loosening his death grip on Lucy's body, but he still held her head in his lap while she examined him. He had a few minor cuts and bruises, but nothing more serious. Isla patched him up with her dermis kit and gave him a very mild sedative, telling him it was a painkiller. She knew he was mentally shaken, and there was no telling what he would do.

"Kirk to Knight," her communicator chirped.

"Knight here."

"Isla, what's your status?"

"We've found Captain Dale and Lieutenant Barrow, sir. Ben's fine, but Lucy… Captain, she's dead."

Kirk swore. "Well, you'd better come up to the control center. Troy's stable, I think, but he needs some attention."

"Aye, sir."

Arlo carefully picked up Lucy's body. She was small and light. Isla helped Ben to his feet. He was heavy from the sedative.

Then several things suddenly happened at once. Something rammed into Isla from behind, knocking Ben away from her and forcing her to the ground. There was frantic scrambling around her, and she was aware of something clawing at her. She yelped as her side was ripped into, and she struggled to get away from the huge bulk. She heard the sound of Arlo's phaser firing, and then everything was still.

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!" she shouted.

"It was a Klingon! He just came out of nowhere!"

"He was growling and kicking like a wild animal." Isla examined the body on the dead Klingon. She wasn't an expert on Klingon physiology, but he didn't look right. His skin color was all wrong, and his now lifeless eyes were strangely translucent. "I think he's sick."

"You mean, like he was rabid?"

"Maybe. Could be some Klingon form of the disease."

"Are you hurt?"

Isla examined the gash in her side. It was fairly long, but it wasn't deep. "Yeah, he clawed me. I'd forgotten how strong Klingons can be. I'll be fine." She rummaged around in her medical kit for the hydrogen peroxide. She winced as she poured some on the wound. It didn't fizz much, so there must not have been much to kill. She then applied dermis stitches. By the time they dissolved in a few hours, the wound would be completely closed.

"You alright?"

"Yeah, Arlo, I'll be fine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, it's not deep. I disinfected it."

Arlo looked doubtful, but said nothing else. He nudged the dead Klingon with his foot. "They're even uglier when they're dead."

Isla shrugged and helped Ben back to his feet. He's been silent through the sudden attack.

"Come on," she muttered as she pulled him along beside her.

-_-_-_

"Come on, Mr. Chekov!" Scotty was yelling into the comm. "I'm bustin' my arse down here!"

It was true. He was running around frantically, once again trying to push the ship past her limits, all the while shouting commands to the bridge through the comm in between streams of unintelligible swearing.

They were close to the line, but the Klingon ships were hard on their heels, and at the capacity Scotty was pushing the _Enterprise_, they had no energy to spare for defense. They didn't even have time to send a subspace transmission to the nearest Star Fleet outpost. Scotty could only hope that whoever had received their distress signal would deem it necessary to pull together a defensible welcome committee.

To his extreme relief, they had. As Chekov was excitedly informing him, there were five amply-weaponized Federation starships lying in wait. The Klingons were already starting to fall back. They had no chance, and Scotty breathed a sigh of relief that it really was over.

-_-_-_

Bee sat up suddenly on the med she was occupying in the sick bay. McCoy looked up from a data pad.

"We've slowed down," he said.

"No, we've stopped," Bee amended, being much more attuned to how the ship handled.

McCoy stood. "Why?"

"I would assume," Bee said slowly, "it's because we've left the neutral zone."

The shipped suddenly rocked, but the tremors were fairly slight.

"They're firing on us!"

"No, not us. We're in close proximity to another ship's line of fire. Someone else is attacking them."

Bones eyed her doubtfully. Clearly, the pregnancy and stress of leaving behind Spock were driving her insane.

"I'm not crazy, you know," she said. "You just get a feel for the ship once you've been controlling it. Ask any engineer or pilot."

"I believe you."

"You know what this means, don't you? We're out of the danger."

He merely nodded. Strangely, he did not feel relieved. Safety felt too much like cowardice when others he cared about had been left behind. He knew Bee felt that way too. He studied her for a minute.

By human standards, she was fairly ordinary. However, that did not necessarily mean she was far from interesting. There was an… intelligence about her. She wasn't unique in that. Jim had it too, as well as Spock and Chekov. It wasn't superiority at all. It was genius. Bones didn't feel inferior to his friends. Far from it. But there were moments, faint and extremely rare flickers where it seemed to overshadow them. But it was no illuminating enlightenment – it was brief, yet dark burden, and McCoy was thankful he had no share in it. He suspected that in those instances they felt that subtle yet oh-so-defining degree of separation. The slight advantage. He shuddered to think how it would feel to be reminded that you were, indeed, a cut above the rest and how lonely it must be.

He shook himself out of his reverie. He didn't like his mind going on analytical tangents like that. But he knew it was a mental attempt to understand the nature of Bee and Spock's relationship, and he came to the conclusion that he would indeed be lucky to have anything close to that.

-_-_-_

Once the Klingon vessels had been captured, Bee relieved Sulu on the bridge, hoping to make up for fleeing her post in an earlier panic attack. He was grateful to return to his bed, no hard feelings at all.

When things in Engineering had returned to a semblance of normalcy, Scotty resumed his place on the bridge as acting captain.

Pike's face appeared on the viewscreen. "_Enterprise_, the _U.S.S. Endurance, Cook, Pellowe, Nimitz,_ and _Omega_ will be accompanying you back into the neutral zone."

"Thank you, Admiral," Scotty replied. "We're going to need all the help we can get."

-_-_-_

**A/N: Sorry about the wait. Life outside fan fiction has been rather un-opportunistic when it comes to spare time lately. REVIEW. Seriously, review. The DVD just came out. You should feel inspired.**


	38. Beam Me Up, Scotty

**Co-authored with the effervescent SailingAwaySoftly.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, but we're working on that.**

-_-_-_

Isla, Arlo, and Ben eventually made it to the control center. Kirk grimaced when he saw Lucy's body. Troy's pained expression tightened. Isla helped Ben sit down close to where Arlo laid out Lucy's body and went to tend to the injured commander.

"You've only got minor injuries," she informed him. He had a cracked rib and other cuts and bruises, but was other wise fine. She gave him a good painkiller though.

"Thanks," he muttered. Troy was obviously upset about Lucy, too.

"Isla, what happened to you?" Kirk asked.

"Another Klingon, sir," she replied. "It's nothing. I'll be fine."

"The Klingon was diseased," Arlo added. Isla shot him a dirty look.

"I _think_ he was diseased," she amended. "His color looked off, and his attack was all wrong, but I have absolutely no experience with Klingon physiology, so I have no way of knowing."

"Did you scan him?"

"No, sir." But Isla pulled out her tricorder and scanned herself. "See?" she said, showing him the reading. "Clean as a whistle. I drowned it in hydrogen peroxide."

That seemed to satisfy Arlo, at least, but Kirk looked slightly less than convinced. But he was no doctor, so he didn't argue. Spock didn't seem to be paying much attention to the exchange. He was still hacking the computer.

"Ensign Bell, I have located the device blocking transporting signals. Please accompany me to disable it."

"Yes, sir," Arlo said, following the commander out.

"Hmm," Kirk said. "Bones'll be less than thrilled that I brought you back in the less than whole condition you left in."

"I volunteered. It's not like I hadn't expected worse. By all accounts, I should be half-dead by now. The Klingon literally battering-rammed me."

"So what's the deal with you and Bones anyway?" he asked.

"That's hardly any of your business, Captain."

"My best friend's well-being is my business. It just so happens that the rest of the crew's is too."

She couldn't argue with that. "Jim, I really don't want to discuss it with you. I'm sure he'll tell you if you ask."

"Hardly. Bones was always the better listener. Not that I wouldn't listen to him, but he never had much to say about that particular area of his life. You know he's divorced, right?"

"Yeah, of course."

"And you know he has a kid?"

Isla froze. "He has a _what_?"

"A kid. A daughter, actually."

"H-he does?"

Kirk's expression turned guilty. The last thing he wanted to do was unintentionally drive a wedge between the two doctors.

"He hardly ever talked about her, even to me. You should ask him."

Isla's face grew angry. "Oh, he is in trouble. He is in huge, gigantic, universe-ending trouble."

"Now, Isla…"

"He is _so_ deceased."

Kirked shrugged and turned his attention to the command console. What were these Klingons hiding?

-_-_-_

"So…" Arlo said casually, "You and my sister…"

Spock had been expecting Arlo to bring it up at some point. He was perfectly entitled to do so. For humans, impregnating one's sister was a point of contention initially, at least. He hoped Arlo would be more forgiving.

"Ensign – Arlo – I cannot satisfactorily explain to you my situation. I am sorry for this. I had no right to ask this of your sister. In fact, I did reluctantly, and even then only under orders. I explained everything to her as best I could and gave her the opportunity to decline. She accepted, fully informed, though I do not think she completely understood what I was asking of her. Even… after, I told her it would be perfectly acceptable for her to… sever ties with me. She refused. Her pregnancy was unintentional and unexpected. I must tell you that I do not blame you if you are angry with me."

Arlo considered all this for a moment before answering. "I'm not angry with you, Commander. I used to be, but Bee asked me not to. She wanted me to try to like you, to at least accept what had happened because it wasn't going to change. And I do accept it. And I… don't feel any aversion to you. I'll admit, I was ready to kill you at first, and don't think I won't try if you hurt her." Arlo said this more out of fraternal obligation than with real conviction. For some reason, he didn't think Spock would be going back on his word any time soon.

"I would not exercise the authority of my rank in such a case." He looked sideways at the young ensign. "Though, if you tried to confront me hand to hand, killing me may prove somewhat difficult."

Arlo laughed. A fairly successful attempt at humor. He didn't think he'd ever be calling Spock 'brother,' but he really was starting to like him. He was surprised to see the corner of Spock's mouth turned slightly upward.

They located the blocking device. Spock guarded him unnecessarily, and Arlo had the thing dismantled and deactivated in a few minutes.

"That should do it," he said. "We should try to contact the _Enterprise_."

"Agreed."

-_-_-_

The _Enterprise_, in fact, was merrily on her way back to the planet, flanked by the other Star Fleet vessels. They would have no trouble in defeating the rest of the pirate fleet.

"Captain, we're receiving a subspace message from the planet," chimed the communications officer.

"Report, lieutenant."

"The away team has successfully gained control of the planet's command center. They have freed the two of the three hostages. One casualty."

Scotty swore softly, but he was secretly glad that they had not come to more harm. He needed Arlo, and he hated to see what it would do to Bee if anything happened to any of them.

"Ve'll be arriwing at ze planet vizin half an hour," Chekov reported.

"Thank you, Mr. Chekov."

-_-_-_

When Spock and Arlo returned to the control center, they found that Kirk had managed to finish Spock's hacking job and had sent a subspace message to the _Enterprise_. The captain's expression, however, was far from any positive emotion that should have been associated with this. His face was dark, his mouth compressed into a thin, tight line, his eyes full of a strange emotion. It was a mix of grief and anger. Could something concerning Lucy have happened to further the sadness of her death? But her body was just as it had been, Ben holding her head in his lap, his sedated eyes staring off into nothing.

"Captain, what is the matter?"

"I hacked the computer. Once I got past all the information concerning the pirates, I found data about the planet itself. It's mostly medical records. The Klingon that attacked Isla _was_ diseased. Aside from the pirates we killed, so is every other Klingon on this planet. It's not a penal colony – it's a leper colony."

"That's why the population is so unbalanced," Isla said.

Kirk nodded gravely. "They've been abandoned. They were left here to die."

-_-_-_

Once the _Enterprise _arrived at the planet, three of the other Star Fleet vessels took the Klingon pirates prisoner and returned to the Neutral Zone. The other two stayed behind to destroy the Klingon ships and assist the _Enterprise._ Kirk was almost sick about the fate of the Klingon colonists. He disliked Klingons in general just as much as the next human, but they didn't deserve that fate. No innocent person did. There were _children_ on that planet.

While he and Spock discussed their next actions, Isla searched for information on the disease. It affected the Klingon immune system, attacking their equivalent to white blood cells and then attacking the brain itself. It was a nightmarish mix of blood poisoning and brain fever. If there was a cure, no one had bothered to give it to them. Perhaps there _was_ one, but the Klingon colonists were too sick for it to have any effect. Maybe no one cared.

After communicating with Admiral Pike, it was decided that Star Fleet could do nothing. The planet was under the control of the Klingon Empire. They would have to leave as quickly as possible. The only reason they weren't dead yet was because the Klingon fleet was allowing Star Fleet to take care of the pirate problem. They had been targets just as much as the Federation.

"I just feel so guilty leaving them all here," Isla muttered as they prepared to be beamed aboard the _Enterprise_.

"There's nothing we can do," Kirk reminded her. "I hate it too," he added.

She checked her wound as they positioned themselves. The cuts were almost only thin red lines. They would be completely healed in no more than two hours.

"Scotty, get us out of here."

-_-_-_

**A/N: Aw, poor Klingons. Reunion goodness coming next chapter. We're almost done! REVIEW!**


	39. Easy Mac

**Co-authored with the effervescent SailingAwaySoftly.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, but we're working on that.**

-_-_-_

Bee shifted her weight from foot to foot as she waited impatiently for the away team to be beamed aboard. She heard the familiar high-pitched whirling and suddenly they all stood before her. Commander Andrews, the first officer of the _Indy_, supported his half-sedated captain. Isla looked very unhappy. They'd all heard about the Klingon colony, and Bee knew that her friend felt somewhat helpless.

Arlo was smiling, but his expression was still sort of sad. It was no surprise, since Jim was carrying Lieutenant Barrow's body. Spock, her Spock, looked impassive as usual. She let out a sigh of relief that he was apparently unharmed.

Arlo rushed forward to hug her. She was glad to see him. Something about the way he embraced her made her feel as though things were finally alright between them.

Kirk was talking to Scotty, still holding Lucy's body. Scotty nodded wordlessly as the corpse was passed to his arms. Jim left for the bridge. Isla, who looked extremely angry, stalked off to the medical bay, Troy and Ben in tow.

When Arlo pulled away, saying that he had to return to engineering, Spock approached Bee. He held out his hand to her, and she took it, pulling him away with her. If Jim was going to bitch about his first officer not being on the bridge, Bee didn't care.

_Your son has been wondering where you went._

_I promised you I would return._

_Not soon enough, Spock._

_We were in surprisingly little danger. The Klingon pirates were more disorganized than we initially thought. There was no real reason to fear them._

_It is a shame about the colonists._

_Indeed. No Vulcan elder would even suggest such a thing. A quarantine, yes, but not abandonment. Not even the Romulans would do that. Your friend is lucky that she was not infected._

_Isla?_

_She was attacked by a diseased Klingon._

_McCoy will kill Jim for that._

_Not, I think, if Lieutenant Knight kills Dr. McCoy first._

"What do you mean?" Bee asked aloud.

"I should not have spoken," Spock said. "It is not mine to tell."

"I understand."

Spock pulled her to him once they were inside his quarters. He placed a hand on her belly, receiving a _thump_ in answer. Bee winced.

"I just want him to be born already," she muttered.

"As do I."

Bee smiled slightly and leaned up to kiss him, but she stopped half an inch away from his mouth. She'd caught sight of the greenish bruise developing across his left cheekbone.

"Someone hit you. Backhanded, from the look of it."

He nodded.

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. Suddenly, she reached forward, grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling it sharply upwards. Bruises much uglier than the one on his face blotted his torso. Bee growled softly. Spock raised an eyebrow.

"They hurt you," she said through clenched teeth. She saw it in his mind. Jim instigated the fight. Then she saw the phaser fire that grazed Spock's arm. Oh, she was going to give her captain hell for that.

"Do not blame Jim."

"The hell I won't. Spock, you're hurt!"

"The wound is not bad."

There was an audible _click_ as she snapped her teeth together. She was still gripping his shirt. After staring at him for a moment, she jerked it upward. She knew it was selfish and that he was probably tired, but she didn't care, and it didn't stop her.

He caught hold of her wrists. _There is no need for force. I have been impatient to return to you since the moment I left._

She smiled wickedly in her triumph. She was thrilled to have the heat of his body surrounding her again, and she was impatient to have every inch of herself consumed by every inch of him. And he was more than willing.

-_-_-_

McCoy knew he was in trouble the moment Isla set foot into the medical bay trailed by Andrews and Dale. She explained to him in clipped tones the nature of their situations and stood in a corner, arms folded, as he tended to the new patients. She glared at him as she waited for him to deal with Scotty, who had just carried in Lucy's body. They took her to the small mortuary, covering her lifeless shell with a sheet. Scotty left without a word. Bones decided to keep Ben where he could be watched, so he gave him a stronger sedative. Knocking him out for a few hours was the least that could be done for the man. He dismissed Andrews.

Without looking at Isla, he strode decidedly to his office, closing the door after she'd followed him inside. He bravely met her eyes but remained silent.

"Why would you lie to me?" she demanded.

"I wasn't aware that I'd lied to you at all," he replied careful to keep his voice devoid of anything that might make her angrier.

"You have a _kid_? A _daughter_?"

A missile could not have hit him with more force. The blood drained from his face, and he grimaced as though he were in actual pain.

"Jim," he managed to say.

"Don't bring Jim into this. It was an accident that he told me. Why did you lie to me?"

"I didn't."

"Not telling me is as good as lying."

"I was going to tell you."

"When? At my deathbed?"

"Really, Isla."

"No! You can't just bloody act like it's nothing at all!" But she could see that he wasn't, and she wished she hadn't said it.

"Do you honestly think I was intentionally hiding this from you? I wasn't! She's… she's barely a part of my life. The last time I spoke to her was when we returned to Earth for the Blessing. I haven't actually seen her in three years. I'm hoping that as she gets older, she'll be able to contact me more freely, but she's only eight now, and her _mother_ restricts her contact with me."

"Mac, I – I'm sor–"

He lurched forward, putting his hand over his mouth. "Please, Isla, say anything but that. I'd prefer it if you were still angry at me. I –" He froze. "What happened to you?"

"I was attacked. Mac, it's only a cut. See? It's already mostly healed."

But his jaw was set, his grip on her arms just a little too tight. Isla guessed he was probably seeing red.

"Easy, Mac. Just calm down."

He did. "I'm sorry," he muttered. "I've just been out of my mind, especially since we had to leave you all…"

She suddenly pressed herself against him, kissing him hard. She knew he hated that he had been the one left behind to worry. In all honesty, she hadn't stopped thinking about him the entire time. After her body's spectacular return from a boring and frustrating period of celibacy, she didn't plan to go back anytime soon.

He caught her wrists. "Not here, Isla. I don't mind you undressing me, but I think Nurse Chapel might."

"This is me jumping you, Mac. Don't try to stop it."

He laughed. "I'm not stopping it. But not here again." He took her wrist, leading her out. "Nurse Chapel, think you can hold the fort for a while?"

The blonde woman smiled with decided indifference. Who was she to talk? It would certainly make things easier for everyone. "Of course, Doctor."

And then they were practically running. As soon as the door to his quarters slid shut, things got frantic. Bones wasn't sure exactly what happened to their clothes or when they ceased to be two separate beings; he was only aware of Isla and the mind-bending pleasure he had gone years without receiving or giving. He vaguely wondered when the frantic, animalistic desperation would wear off, when they would reach a point where it could be tortuously slow… But it seemed neither of them had much control, because it wasn't too long before they were spent – that could have been a result of the strain they'd both been under though.

Isla snuggled close to him. McCoy drifted off too in a matter or minutes. He was too lost in his own bliss to notice that she was too warm.

-_-_-_

**A/N: OHSNAP. REVIEW.**


	40. Physician, Heal Thyself

**Co-authored with the effervescent SailingAwaySoftly.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, but we're working on that.**

-_-_-_

Bones awoke suddenly. He was so hot that he was sweating. He usually kept his quarters cool, but he supposed that Isla's added body heat made it warmer than usual. Still, it shouldn't have been all _that_ hot…

She mumbled something in her sleep, and he smiled slightly, tucking one of her red tresses behind her ear. Then he froze. She wasn't just warm, she was hot. Unnaturally hot. She should have been sweating as he was. She hadn't been mumbling in her sleep – she'd been whimpering. Her lips were dry, and when he checked her eyes, they were red. She was dangerously dehydrated.

"Isla, wake up, come on!" But she didn't stir.

Bones hastily pulled on his clothes and gathered Isla up in a blanket. He didn't care about the stares he attracted as he carried her to the medical bay. He was in total doctor mode. All he could think about was finding out what the hell was wrong with her and getting it out of her.

"Nurse Chapel, give me a hand," he snapped as he laid Isla on a bed. He grabbed a tricorder and started to scan her.

Chapel brought a gown and put it on Isla. McCoy barely noticed her actions.

"What's wrong with her?" she asked.

He frowned. "It's blood poisoning, but I've never seen anything like it before. It's set in fast…" He checked the place on her side where she'd been cut. The cut _was_ all but healed, but angry red tendrils were reaching up towards her heart. "She was attacked by a Klingon. The reports said…"

"The colony was a massive quarantine. If the Klingon was infected…" Chapel's voice trailed into nothing.

"She treated it. She closed that infection up inside of herself." His teeth were clenched. Whatever the Klingon disease was, it was aggressively fast in a human body, and Isla was already comatose.

"What can we do?"

"She's dehydrated. She needs fluids and a massive dose of antibiotics. We have to cleanse her entire system."

"Is she contagious?"

He checked the tricorder. "No, she's not. It's isolated. Call Captain Kirk to the medical bay."

"Yes, Doctor."

-_-_-_

Bones set to work immediately testing Isla's blood, trying to isolate the pathogen. The antibiotics seemed to work a little. Isla's condition wasn't getting worse, at any rate. But then again, you couldn't get much worse than comatose… The pathogen was too complex. He didn't have enough time make an inoculation. Isla would be dead by then.

"Bones, what's that matter?" Kirk asked when he arrived.

"It's Isla. She's got whatever those Klingons had. I've isolated the pathogen, but it's not the sort of disease that has a be-all-end-all cure. Jim, I… I don't think I can save her." He groaned in frustration, running his fingers through his hair.

"Bones, you've got to pull it together. She is going to _die_ if you just sit here and do nothing!"

"I don't know _what_ to do! All the medicine in the universe... Jim, I can't just give her a shot and make it better - she's in a _fucking coma_. I have to completely clean her system, and even then she might not wake up."

"There has to be _something_ you can do. Why don't you just try talking to her? She might start registering brain activity if she has some external stimulus."

"It doesn't work that way, Jim. This isn't a movie. I don't just get to say 'I love you,' and fix everything," Bones muttered.

"Well, do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Do you love her?"

McCoy's jaw clenched. He screwed his eyes shut and drew in a deep shuddering breath.

"I don't know."

-_-_-_

Isla got worse. Her temperature was rising dangerously toward a hundred and five.

"We have to put her in ice!" Bones snapped at Chapel. She was the only one he was allowing to help her. The medical bay wasn't exactly full. Other nurses were not needed to watch over sleeping Benjamin Dale.

Chapel said not a word about McCoy's waspish disposition, especially now that he had a real reason for it. She was used to it.

The ice helped some, and she was now sweating with all the fluids they were pumping into her, but although the blood poisoning didn't seem to spread, it didn't recede either.

"We have to break her fever. She's burning off the antibiotics too quickly before they have a chance to really work."

Chapel said nothing. She knew he was speaking aloud mostly for himself.

Bones went to the supplies and brought back a fever serum. He had wanted to use ice first, because the more medicine in her system vying for her health would only slow it down. But her fever just wasn't going down fast enough. He injected the serum and increased her antibiotics.

"What do we do now?" Chapel asked.

McCoy slumped back in a chair, exhausted and almost sick himself after hours on his feet and non-stop worry. Nothing. There was nothing. She had hours, and there was nothing else. It would either work or it would not.

"We wait."

-_-_-_

Bones was beginning to think that he knew nothing about his heart. For instance, he didn't think his heart could take sitting and watching Isla die, but he did it anyway. Is this what it took? Did he really have to watch this woman suffer – knowing full well that everything he had done to save her probably wasn't going to be good enough – to be forced to re-examine his life?

He reached out and covered Isla's warm hand with his own. It seemed less feverish, almost normal, but then again, that could have just been her body cooling as the life was leeched out of her…

-_-_-_

**A/N: THAT WAS INTENSE. Next two chapters are the last, so the end is nigh! REVIEW.**


	41. EPIClogue 1: The End is Nigh

**Co-authored with the effervescent SailingAwaySoftly.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, but we're working on that.**

-_-_-_

**Two Months Later…**

-_-_-_

"SPOCK! YOU BLOODY DID THIS TO ME!" Bee shouted as another contraction hit her.

"I can't give you the drugs yet, Bee," Bones said with a roll of his eyes. "You aren't dilated enough."

"Just get this baby out of me!"

McCoy shook his head as Nurse Chapel tried to soothe his fuming patient. Spock was lucky he had been called to Earth's surface. If he'd been present, he'd be lucky to escape with his life.

"OWWWWWW!"

"Bee, get a grip!" he snapped.

"YOU HAVE THE BABY THEN!"

He laughed at that. Despite her labor-induced tirade, he knew that she really did want Spock there with her. God knows it would've made his job easier.

Bee had flat out refused to allow her brother to be present for the birth, and honestly, Arlo was grateful. Spock, of course, would have been there had he not been called away. Orders were orders, and it still wasn't common knowledge that he and Bee were together. They'd managed to keep that surprisingly secret. Bones was actually impressed. Of course, now that the baby was coming, if he looked anything like Spock, pointy ears or not (and the kid _did_ have pointy ears – confirmed by sonogram), there was no way to hide it.

"Alright, Bee, here come the drugs."

The relief was practically instantaneous. Bee relaxed. "Thanks, Bones."

"It was for my relief as much as yours."

"Sorry."

McCoy had really hoped that Bee wouldn't be the teary type once the drugs kicked in, but he had no such luck. She didn't sob though. Tears fell, but they were silent. He doubted she was fully aware of it.

"Why's my face wet?" she asked after a few minutes.

"You're crying."

"What? Why am I crying? Dammit, I'm sorry!"

"Don't get yourself worked up. It's the drugs. And giving birth is a pretty emotional experience, from what I've seen."

"Just think, you'll get to deliver the first quarter-Vulcan, three-quarter-human child in the universe."

"As far as we know."

Spock arrived a few minutes later.

"Good, you're here. She can yell at someone else for a change."

"I'm not going to yell!"

"Uh huh. Whatever."

_I am glad you are back._

_As am I. Are you in pain?_

_Not anymore. McCoy gave me drugs. But the baby will come soon. He is excited; he wants to be born._

Spock smoothed her hair back from her sweaty forehead. _Do you want me to stay?_

"Are you kidding?! NO."

"Why not?"

"You can go keep Arlo company."

"I can help you."

"Help me from a distance. Spock, I want you here, just not _here_."

_I will be with you._

_Spock, I love you. But I cannot explain why I feel this way about having you here._ But she knew. It was the pain, the weakness. She hated not being in control of her body, and to have her lack of control displayed before him was… too much.

"_There is no need for shame_," he whispered in Vulcan, leaning in close to her. "_You are strong._"

-_-_-_

When the baby simply refused to be denied entrance to the world any longer, Nurse Chapel kicked everyone out of the medical bay, including a very eager and disappointed Captain Kirk. Spock was one of his closest friends, and since he took personal responsibility for Bee and Spock being together, he wanted to be present for the birth of their child (and the first child to be born on board the _Enterprise_.)

"Alright, Bee, time to start pushing. Just breathe and push when I tell you too," said McCoy.

She nodded with grim determination. She wasn't much of a hand-holder, but she was glad to have Chapel's hand to squeeze (or break) when a contraction hit.

"Push, Bee."

Yelling seemed to make pushing easier, so whenever Bones told her to push, Bee howled at the top of her lungs.

Two hours later, McCoy declared the he had the head, and that it wouldn't be long before the baby was born.

Bee was sick of being pregnant. She was so close, but it felt like she wasn't going to make it. How had women done this for so long? She had never planned on being pregnant. But she kept pushing because she wanted that baby more than anything.

_Strength, beloved,_ Spock said.

_Where have you been the last two hours?_ she demanded.

_I have been with you._

She knew that was true. There hadn't been a moment when she hadn't felt him. She had just been distracted by the pain.

"Oh, I wish Isla were here!" she cried.

"I know, Bee, I know. She wanted to be," Bones said, his voice gentle. "But you're almost there! Come on!"

-_-_-_

As soon as the baby was clean and in Bee's arms, Spock was at her side again. Kirk had to return to the bridge, as did Arlo to Engineering, so they were left alone.

Neither of them spoke, marveling at the tiny child.

He was perfect, as far as babies went. He had a surprising amount of black that was wavy like Bee's, nowhere near flat like Spock's. He didn't have his father's slanted eyebrows either, but his tiny ears tapered into perfect Vulcan points. His eyes were dark too, though they were closed now. His little lips opened in a yawn.

_How are you?_ Spock asked.

_Exhausted. I want to sleep, but I cannot stop watching him._

_Sleep. Dr. McCoy will want to see him anyway._

Bee wanted to protest, but she was so tired, and she offered little resistance as he gently took their son from her arms.

-_-_-_

The next time she woke up, Spock was sitting silently next to her, holding their son.

"How long have I been asleep?"

"Several hours. The captain came by to see us. Beloved…"

"Yes?"

"I believe it is a human tradition to appoint a guardian to a child. A godparent. If it is agreeable, I would like to ask Jim…"

She smiled. "Spock, I think it's a great idea. Jim will love it."

There were loud voices at the entrance of the bay. Or rather, _one_ loud voice.

"– I can't believe I missed it! Mac, why didn't you contact me?!"

Isla burst in moments later. "What the hell, Bee. You couldn't have held off for a couple of hours?!"

-_-_-_

Later, when Bee and the baby were asleep and Spock was at his place on the bridge, Bones pulled Isla down to sit in his lap. She pressed her lips against his.

"So how was shore leave?" he asked her.

"It was… liberating."

"You found him?"

"Yes." She smiled. "He's been trying to find me too. When he found out that I joined Star Fleet, he said he's always kept an eye out for when the _Enterprise_ returns to Earth."

"How is he?"

"He's fine. He's sobered up. He's been married for five years, and he's really happy. I have a little sister." Her smile widened. "She's so cute! And his wife – I can tell she's good for him."

Bones leaned in for another kiss. "I'm glad you've set things right with your father, Isla."

"Me too. It was always my biggest regret… And when I almost…"

He held her tighter. He did not want to remember those hours of agony. For both of them.

"He said he was proud of me. He knew I'd gone to med school, and he said he was sorry for not being the man he should have been. He asked me if I forgave him."

"Have you?"

She nodded. "I started forgiving him a while ago. I couldn't force myself to be that angry for so long."

They sat there in silence for a little while.

"When do you go on shore leave?" she asked him.

"In a few hours. I'm waiting for a group in Engineering to get back."

"You'll see her?"

He nodded. "I'm a little anxious. I don't know what she'll think."

"Don't worry about it, Mac. It'll be fine. And I can think of a few ways to wear off some of that anxiety," she added with a sly smile.

"Oh really?"

She slid from his lap to the floor, her hands resting lightly on his knees.

"Don't you think my office has been desecrated enough?"

Her answering smirk was enough.

-_-_-_

**A/N: SIKE. You all thought Isla was done for. Okay, so just like we had two prologues, we're going to have two epilogues. REVIEW.**


	42. EPIClogue 2: Steady as She Goes

**Co-authored with the effervescent SailingAwaySoftly.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, but we're working on that.**

-_-_-_

**Six and a Half Years Later…**

**-_-_-_**

"Come on, Liam!" Adele, now ten years old, called back to her younger adoptive cousin. "Arlo's going to show us something down in Engineering!"

He eagerly followed. Liam adored Adele and followed her practically everywhere. He ran up to her and slipped his hand in hers.

"You'll be seven years old soon, Liam," said Adele.

"I know. My mother says seven is a special year. Why is it special?"

Adele shrugged. "Seven is a lucky number." She flicked one of his pointed ears affectionately. "Maybe something amazing will happen."

-_-_-_

Spock absentmindedly trailed his fingers lightly down Bee's spine. She was asleep now, but there was only silence from her mind, for she had not yet begun to dream. He still felt guilty that he had… caused her unconsciousness, but he suspected that she – as she had seven years earlier – would assure him that it was a good thing.

The madness had almost instantly left him, but the fever was receding at a slower pace. He feared his body heat, which was already much warmer than Bee's, would cause her discomfort. However, he felt nothing but contentment radiating from her. He could just make out the faint shadows of bruises on her skin, more pain he had caused her. It had surprised him that he had heard no protests from her. He knew she did not exactly enjoy the pain, more that she had just not noticed it when her attention had been… otherwise engaged.

He closed his eyes as sleep started to overwhelm him. Just before he fell unconscious, Bee began to dream. Spock rested his head against hers and dreamed too.

-_-_-_

"You wipe that smirk off your face, Leonard McCoy."

He only continued to grin slyly at her as he pulled on his clothes. "You didn't seem to mind so much a few minutes ago."

"A few minutes ago, I wasn't entirely coherent. I wasn't responsible for my actions."

"How about I make you responsible for another shift?"

"You promised! I've worked double for a week!"

He laughed and strode back over to the bed. "Relax, _you're_ the one who gets to sleep in." He leaned in to kiss her, and it wasn't exactly a peck on the lips.

Isla whimpered, and her hands automatically went to the waistline of his pants. With some difficulty, he stopped her.

"Hey now," he said, his voice rough, "I have a job, you know."

"How am I supposed to enjoy my day off alone?"

"Why don't you go see Bee? It's her day off too."

"Yeah – with _Spock_."

"Ah."

"Exactly."

"Well, you'll just have to find some way to entertain yourself then."

"I don't know which is better – the fact that I have a day off or the fact that you have to think about how I spend that day off while you have to work." Her lips were millimeters from his.

It was almost painful for him to pull himself away from her.

"_Fine_," she said with a sigh. "Can't blame me for trying."

He looked between her and the door three times. He was seriously reconsidering. Nurse Chapel was more than capable… He didn't have to miss his _entire_ shift… And the more time he spent deliberating, all the while Isla smiling slyly at him, the closer he got to a point where he actually _couldn't_ leave…

"What the hell."

"Yes!" she exclaimed triumphantly. "I win!"

He laughed as she somewhat aggressively pulled him to her. Her hands were at his waist again, and once more he stopped her.

"What?" she asked, frustrated.

"Why are you in such a hurry?"

"Well, I thought you shouldn't miss _all_ of your shift."

"How considerate of you."

-_-_-_

James Kirk smiled a little to himself as Spock took his place on the bridge. Bee wasn't on shift, probably off somewhere in the ship with Liam or – as Kirk was inclined to suppose – recovering in their quarters. He wasn't stupid.

At last, they were going home. It was only for a short time, but Kirk had been missing Earth lately, and it was nice to be going back for an actual rest instead of an emergency. He needed to visit his mother anyway.

"Lay in a course for Earth," he ordered.

"Course laid in, Captain."

"Steady as she goes, Mr. Sulu."

-_-_-_

**FIN.**

**-_-_-_**

**A/N: That's it! Hope you guys enjoyed it! And for my next trick, I will be continuing the Doctor Who fic I started a few months ago. It's called "Crayons Can Melt on Us for All I Care." Check it, yo. REVIEW. Peace out.**


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